Seemingly innocuous, the web had been carefully woven to span the opening. Spun to perfection, it was an enviable treasure.  It beckoned the passerby to reach out and touch its silky rich finish. The fragility of the web was deceiving, the maker a master of control. When the greedy tried to pluck the web from its moorings, it would respond in kind holding fast the grasping hand. 


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Down in my basement, lined neatly on a shelf are handwritten notebooks chronicling my life. After years of writing, the experience became more of a burden then an important part of my day so I quit writing. Five years later I took up writing again. This time it was in the form of a blog which gave me a place to hang out after I lost my job. From there my blog content morphed into writing about my general contractor experience building our house. As my life experiences grew so did my blog.

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