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I was 11 when I read 'The Hobbit' (in 1972) for the first time. I was obsessed with all of Middle Earth for many years, but found no others who felt as I did. Eventually I learned to swallow my 'foolishness', only to wish, decades later, I'd stood by it (when at last I met a few other fey souls).
I'm a motherless child. I have but one child, a daughter, and her I couldn't trust myself to raise.
She is lovely, a fairy princess in her own right, and one or two there are who've told her so.
I left my home on Palomar Mountain (north-east of San Diego) three years ago,in the wake of a dream I trusted. It has led to greater happiness, but an exhaustion of savings and no reliable means of support. Jobs for such as me (a lowly care-giver) are thin on the ground here.
I should like to become a Quenya speaker, and perhaps find others to converse with, though I wonder how the time for it is to come, as job searching so far has been time-consuming.
Still, when we follow our hearts, we are where we belong. So greetings, all. It's glad I am to be among you.