Who Am I?
I am a 73 year old male, English, married with 2 children, who've both left home (amicably). We have 3 grandsons and 1 car. I am a redundant, now retired, farm worker, sorry agricultural craftsman by default, not design. These are the facts, so to the history.

I was born in Kent in 1942, (it was quite noisy then, so I'm told) I was raised in the village of Hawkinge and after an unremarkable education at The Harvey Grammar School, where I fluked 5 'O' levels    I gained an apprenticeship with the Handley Page aircraft company in Cricklewood, N.W. London and later, Radlett, St Albans. A shy 16 year old country boy, dumped in the big city, I was totally miserable and, though I stuck with it, I grossly under achieved and finished with no additional qualifications. I was very glad to return home with the offer of a job with Skyways Coach Air at Lympne, Ashford airport where I spent 6 very happy years. I married Thelma during this time and gained a huge family of in-laws, including a mother-in-law who thought the sun shone from my rear.   It couldn't last! Well the marriage did but the job didn't. I found myself assembling folding seats for a motor caravan firm in Folkestone. What a nightmare! No wonder the motor industry in this country was crippled by strikes. No-one should have to suffer such boredom.     I stayed a year, often skiving off after lunch because I couldn't face another minute at that bench.

Then the in-laws came to my rescue. Thelma's eldest brother was foreman at Swanton farm, and offered me a temporary job as tractor driver / fitter and though I'd often derided agricultural engineers, (Big 'Ammer--Blunt Chisel) I leapt at the chance, thinking it might be a bit of a giggle 'til something better came along.
That was over forty years ago, now I've been made redundant! As it turned out, not such a bad thing now I've become accustomed to early retirement.
Hobbies? They come and go. Amateur radio, call sign G4MIX, I was very keen, I liked C.W. (morse code) and tried building and modifying equipment. I had to because I couldn't afford the fancy shop bought gear (lousy wages). Now I just use 2 metres and 70cm F.M. to keep in touch with friends. I was secretary of the Hilderstone Radio & Electronics Club for 6 years, a job that was sort of thrust on me but one that I came to enjoy (mainly). It was quite a change from the manual labour of agriculture anyway!
I enjoyed motorcycling as a wild teenager  and decided to revisit my youth as a re-born rocker when I retired but have since sold my little motorbike.     So no more cruising the local highways and byways as I thought my bones might be a little too fragile now to survive falling off.

I had a bit of a fling with photography, I bought a cheap, Russian S.L.R. and thought I was David Bailly for a while. I still have some of the artistic pretensions and now have this computer thing ( thanks to my son ) and a digital camera so I’ve a hard drive full of pictures of my garden.
For the last few years I've returned to my love of flying.     As a boy I enjoyed model aircraft and have dabbled off and on all my life. I currently have three or four radio controlled models in various states of repair but mending them is half the fun, so I'm told, and you can only fly one at a time. My favourite is an electric powered glider mounted with a little video camera but I’ve just rediscovered the joys of building planes with balsa wood so there’s plenty to keep me busy. I've also taught my Grandson to fly but he's more interested in R/C off road cars.
I also have serviced a long time interest in the British weather, as an agricultural craftsman' it was very necessary, so now I have a weather station and it’s ‘live’ online.
http://www.users.waitrose.com/~g4mix/weather/  

So that's me, I may have answered my original question, but only a tiny part of it. Perhaps my watered down Christianity, or my confused thoughts on telepathy and the un-tapped resources of the brain or my enjoyment of comic sci-fi or just what someone described as my robust laughter say more about me than a silly potted history of a very ordinary life.