I retired the last day of year 2008. I was seventy-eight years old, and it was a sad day; I found it very hard to let go. After several weeks of listening to my growling and complaining about having nothing to do, my wife gave me a challenge I could not refuse. I had talked for years about writing a book but claimed I never had time to do it. My wife said I now had plenty of time, so I should get to it; and that's what I did. I had no idea how to begin, but somehow I managed, and The Last Good Year is my eighth book to be published. I am halfway through writing the ninth and promised myself I would write a total of ten before I quit and retire again. Pretty lofty goal for a man now eighty-four years old.