OddThinking

As a student, my father, Joe, paid his way by driving trucks. He had many stories of life as a truckie.

One Sunday morning when I was a teenager, Joe confronted me. “Where were you at 1am last night?” he demanded.

“I… ummm.. errr…” I stuttered, quite startled.

I haven’t been posting here regularly for the past couple of months. The reason is that I have been rather distracted; my father was diagnosed with a fatal illness in April, and passed away this week.