Hello!

Thanks for stopping by! Can I getcha a glass of sweet tea?

Yep, I’m a Southern gal. Not seriously Southern geographically, as I live in west central Mazoorah.

What’s that?

Oh, sorry, you aren’t from around here, huh?

That’s Missouri. The heartland. Buckle of the Bible Belt.

I was born in this state, spent my youngest years livin’ close to my Ozark hillbilly relatives. That’s what makes me a Southerner, at least in spirit. When I was five, we moved up towards Kansas City. I went to school and gave the teachers migraines. I spent a lot of time in the emergency room, ’cause I’m such a klutz.

I was a good student but my report cards always said, “Lacks self control” LOL! I was the talker. (A storyteller even back then!)

I went to college for a while, but then I got married and screwed up my life.

That lasted just long enough for me to lose my scholarships and grants. By the time I was 20 I was a divorcee, yet wasn’t allowed to sign for my own car loan. Nobody would co-sign it for me, so I moved back in with my folks, took a job in a crappy office and saved my money for the day I could move out.

That was July 29, 1974, the day I turned 21. I hightailed it to the car dealer, bought myself a Volkswagen Beetle and moved into my own apartment. Started dating a fella that worked at the local hospital. He was an X-ray tech. It was a small hospital in a small town so the techs would rotate being on call to cover the evening and night shifts. I’d tag along if we were out on a date when the beeper went off, and I thought it was a cool job. That’s how dumb I was.

I took some emergency medical technician classes, met more people from the hospital. Started thinking about goin’ to x-ray school myself. Then I cut my finger off. You’ll have to read the book for that story - LOL!

When me and my reattached finger recovered, I DID go to x-ray school. Won first place in the Missouri student essay contest and graduated with honors. Got a job working in a children’s hospital - hated it. There ain’t nothin’ more depressing than dead babies.

But the times, they weren’t all bad. I met my soulmate, got pregnant, and had a beautiful baby boy. Then when our beautiful baby boy was six weeks old, he got pneumonia. Stopped breathing. Went through three code blues. Yup, that strapping young man who is now over six feet tall, died three times. Lemme tell ya, that’ll put the fear o’ God in ya. You promise the Lord anything. I hope I’ve kept most of mine.

Then, not-yet-husband (we were living in sin!) got transferred to California. Son was one year old, and we packed up our troubles in our old kit bag and loaded up the Conestoga. Not an actual covered wagon (not this lifetime anyway - LOL) but the worlds largest automobile, a 1972 Chrysler station wagon the size of a battleship.

We moved into an apartment in the Haight Ashbury neighborhood of San Francisco with two gay friends who’d moved out there a few months prior. Talk about culture shock! We left frozen Mazoorah in February and landed in the gay Bay area, where everyone complained that the 60-degree weather was unbearably cold. Where grocery shoppers openly toked a joint while perusing the arugula and every illicit drug and activity was available within walking distance.

Good times.

After a few months, we moved down the peninsula to Redwood City. “Climate best by government test.” And it was. It was heaven. Summer days were 80 degrees, nights were 65. Winter meant 60-degree days and 45-degree nights. No blizzards or tornadoes. Only bad thing was our rent going up a couple of hundred dollars every year. By the time we were facing the third year, we figured we could make a house payment for what it was costing. We could, but we had to move 60 miles away to do it.

See, the further away you got from the Bay area, the cheaper houses got. We had to go 60 miles to find something in our budget - LOL! When we started house hunting, we discovered the pitfalls of an unmarried couple trying to get a mortgage, so we decided to “elope”. Didn’t tell a soul, just got a babysitter for the not-dead-4-year-old, and told everyone we were going to Reno for the Air Races. Which we did, but we slipped into a chapel and got married while we were there - LOL! I even bought a wedding dress. We walked from the hotel to the chapel, holding hands, with my ivory lace gown blowing in the wind, and the biggest grins on our faces.

We moved into a little ‘50’s bungalow that was haunted. Not in a bad way, once you got used to it. Lived in between a cranky old couple and a family of screamers. They’d fight and holler until she’d yell that he was upsetting the baby, then he’d go out to the garage and sit in his car with the radio cranked way up.

The weather in the Central Valley isn’t nearly as lovely. Winter meant endless, gray, drizzly days. Fog so thick the Hiway Patrol cars were equipped with giant fog lights and led caravans of commuters through it at slow speed to avoid ninety car pileups. It was not pleasant. I missed the seasons changing. I worried about my family back in Mazoorah, facing a cancer crisis.

Opportunity came for Husband to accept a promotion that would take us back to Kansas City. We left the Conestoga to some friends, towed our VW bus behind a U Haul truck, and came home.

First week back, Husband had to go out of town for a business conference. I was left to house-hunt. I told the realtor we wanted a place on a hill with some land. They showed me 85 subdivision homes.

I got a new realtor.

We ended up buying this place, which is also haunted, but I plan on staying. I ain’t movin’ again! I even checked on being buried here. It’s legal now, but by the time I kick the bucket, they’ll probably change the rules.

I appreciate all my friends and am grateful for the blessings I have. My faith in a higher power and in myself gets me through good times and bad.

Many of my family members have succumbed to cancer now. Husband’s parents are still doing well, and are a joy to be around. Had two more kids, planted Christmas trees and pumpkins, broke both my ankles and learned a lot about computers and the Internet. The not-dead baby boy is engaged to a wonderful girl now.

I’m still spinnin’ stories, love to write, have a little more self-control - LOL!

I appreciate y’all stoppin’ by, and wish you a beautiful life.

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