Life is but a stopping place

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I Wanna Be Johnny's Girl

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A song just played on my iphone and it made me recall this. There is this one hit wonder called: "Bobby's Girl" by Marcie Blane from the 60's. When I FIRST met John, I was 18, going on 19, and I'd walk around the house (I lived at home), and I'd sing the lyrics, except I'd change it from "Bobby's Girl" to "Johnny's girl" there is this one part of the song where the back ground singers are singing: "Your not a kid anymore...." On the icing on my birthday cake when I turned 19, Mom had the bakers write: "Your not a kid anymore".... Here are the lyrics to that song: (You're not a kid anymore) (You're not a kid anymore) When people ask of me What would you like to be Now that your not a kid anymore (You're not a kid anymore) I know just what to say I answer right away There's just one thing I've been wishing for... I want to be Bobby's girl I want to be Bobby's g...
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Osbourne Pets Update 2022

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  Getting to know Marshall Osbourne Marshall kitty is what John and I refer to as our "Bonus Kitty".  When we saw the  ad on Facebook in our local neighborhood page for free kittens, we reached out to the gal and asked about them. She had stated there was 1 left, a tabby. So we asked to adopt him. As the date of us picking up our new kitty approached, I got a message from the  gal wondering if we would be interested in adopting the brother to the kitten we were going to adopt. We didn't really even hesitate, John said yes right away.  She was so glad we said yes, she said that they were bonded so closely, she was concerned how they would do apart. This is how we came to adopt Marshall.  Marshall is an aloof boy, who likes to call the shots on when or if he is going to allow you to see or pet him. Marshall  doesn't like to be held or picked up but will allow himself to be for a short period of time. I refer to Marshall as my "Indiana Jones Kitty". ...
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The Ties That Bind—and Break

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In the heart of Minnesota, in the city of St. Paul, my parents’ story began. Mom, one of seven children, grew up in a bustling, lively home. Dad, a quiet, hardworking young man from the northern woods, moved to St. Paul for a better life. At just 18, he started a job at the Ford plant that would come to define his work ethic and stability. At 20, a week shy of his birthday, he married my mom. She was just 18, and they were determined to prove that teenage marriages could succeed. Four years later, I arrived—a quiet, shy, and introverted child, eager to please. Three years after that came my sister, Rachel, a whirlwind of chaos and contrast. Where I was reserved and studious, Rachel was loud, defiant, and impulsive—a troublemaker who seemed to thrive on pushing boundaries. From the beginning, our relationship was strained, shaped by our differences and, eventually, by her destructive choices. When I was 17, Rachel’s actions detonated a bomb in our family. In an attempt to impress her bo...
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