Givin' it away.

I've always been leary of blogging. Felt I was giving the milk away for free. Trying my best not to do that. I've been told the men won't buy the cow that way.

I want you to buy the cow. Not me the cow. The book the cow.

Oh. You get it. So, it's Pre Middle Age and a friend phoned today. She asked how old I was and couldn't believe it when I told her I was going to be 37, just like her son.

Gulp....th....irty -seven. Geez. Even that is becoming hard to say. Wonder if that is why my throat was hurting last night and I starting coughing so much. That really is a terrible number.

Still, in all accounts, it's Pre Middle Age. So, let's get on with it.

My mom's friend said she still remembers me at 17 and even earlier when my dad had his own business and I was just a tot. Just a tot sounds so much better than thirty-seven and so much twice around the world better than ffff....orty.

Just a tot. I like the sound of that. Sounds like pigtails, and dirt and playing bride with The Kendricks on Rio Lempa Drive. I was the only girl so I got to be the bride often.

Another reason I'm so endlessly fascinated with men. Ahh...