"If you're happy, if you're feeling good, then nothing else matters." -- Robin Wright Penn
One of the things I have been focusing on these days is "following my feel good". In the past, I have been many things: a disordered eater, a know it all, slightly overweight, critical, judgmental, rigid in my thinking, a people pleaser and, perhaps, other labels that escape me at the moment. All of these tendencies and behaviors shaped me to a certain degree and brought me to where I am today.
Which doesn't have to be a bad thing.
Unless...
I ignore good, old fashioned common sense (which isn't so "common", but I digress).
For example...
After I ran the Chicago Marathon last fall, I noticed that my feet were sore. Well, that's not exactly an earth shattering revelation. I DID, in fact, run 26.2 miles without stopping. That will definitely put some wear and tear on your little piggies.
But, then I felt it the next day. And occasionally during the following week. And then, the following month.
Pretty soon, I noticed that my heels were sore first thing in the morning when I got out of bed. Then, I felt them running downhill, sort of "slapping against" the inside of my running shoes. Then, I started noticing it was there more than it wasn't.
So, I marched myself into the podiatrists office last November. He gave me a prescription for Naproxen, an anti-inflammatory. I took them intermittently and noticed a slight amount of relief. However, once I stopped taking them, I noticed the sensation returning, which tells me it was a temporary fix at best.
In the past, I would run through aches, pains and discomfort whenever possible. I felt bound to my sense of duty. After all, I was always training for SOMETHING, whether it be a 5K or a marathon. There was always something on the calendar for me to do. What is the old expression??? Oh yeah: one person's discipline is another person's compulsion. I guess I was a *little* compulsive about my training.
However, since the Chicago Marathon has come and gone (10/9/11), there's been nothing on my calendar to train for. I finally registered for a couple of races, yes, but those aren't until October of 2012. But, because I felt bound to my sense of duty, I ran 35-50 miles per week all winter and into the spring.
That is, until this week.
I realized that I just have not been enjoying myself out there. I haven't been looking forward to running. It almost feels like being in a good relationship gone slightly sour. In fact, the mere thought of it tends to exhaust me. Why would I want to put my shoes on and run when my feet hurt??? Between my feet and the unrelenting wind, there really hasn't been much incentive for me to go out and pound the pavement.
To some, this may seem like an admission of Cyndi Lou being lazy and unmotivated. To me, this is a HUGE sign of growth and maturity.
Why?
Because I am focusing on FOLLOWING MY FEEL GOOD!!!! When I insist on engaging in activities and behaviors that fly in the face of this philosophy, I am not honoring my body or my spirit! I am just...punishing myself. And, for what?
For speed?
For conditioning?
For weight loss???
First of all, I know about and believe in muscle memory. If I take a week, a month or even a few months off to recuperate and rest, I'll be able to retrain better and faster than a newbie just learning the sport. Secondly, I'm just not all that concerned about my weight anymore. I feel and look better (feet being the exception, here) at 40 than I ever have. Between whatever exercise I have been doing (weight training, spinning, walking), eating delicious, healthy food most of the time and my AdvoCare supplements, I'm at the top of my game, physically.
This is a HUGE breakthrough for me. I'm coming to terms with the need for rest and I feel secure and strong in the skin that I'm in. Now that I have worked this out in my head, I know I need to take the proper care of myself. A very good friend of mine is a physical therapist and I told her about my sore feet over dinner. She told me that would be easy enough to fix in 6-8 visits. All I need to do is get a referral from my primary care physician and, voila. I'm on the road to recovery. It doesn't matter how long it takes. Running will always be there. Life is too short to do something unless you're 100% happy doing it.
I will no longer settle for less.
I love this new attitude of mine. I love feeling free and unencumbered by cognitive distortions and false premises. I love being able to differentiate between WANTING to do something and feeling like you HAVE TO or SHOULD.
This fit and fabulous 40 year old will certainly choose the former over the latter.
"Good instincts usually tell you what to do long before your head has figured it out." -- Michael Burke
Pageviews last month
Saturday, April 28, 2012
Saturday, March 31, 2012
Like Sands Through the Hourglass...
Anyone that has ever had a penchant for daytime soap operas (a dying genre, but that's neither here nor there) probably remembers the opening to the longtime serial drama "Days of our Lives", which has been on the air since 1965. A soap opera is defined as "an ongoing, episodic work of dramatic fiction presented in serial format on radio or as television programming. The name soap opera stems from the original dramatic serials broadcast on radio that had soap manufacturers, such as Procter & Gamble, Colgate-Palmolive and Lever Brothers, as sponsors and producers. The main characteristics that define soap operas are "an emphasis on family life, personal relationships, sexual dramas, emotional and moral conflicts; some coverage of topical issues; set in familiar domestic interiors with only occasional excursions into new locations." (Courtesy of Wikipedia).
Most of the time "real life" often pales in comparison. People are born, go to school, get a job, get married and have children. There are some variations here and there, but you get the idea. Because of this, many people would tune in and live vicariously through the adventures, trials and tribulations of their favorite characters. Kind of like an "escape from reality", so to speak.
And then, there are those few occasions when you experience something completely out of the ordinary, something, dare I say it, "soap opera-esque" (I'm inventing new words again).
Such an occasion has recently presented itself.
But, before "the big reveal", a little background.
When I was a teenager, wearing eyeliner that was too heavy and skirts that were too short, my mom sat me down to have a talk (no not "the talk"...been there, done that). She shared with me her struggles growing up that culminated in two pregnancies when she was a very young adult. It was a difficult time in her life, where she felt alone, disconnected and unloved. To make a long story short, she gave birth to both of those children and put them up for adoption. At the time, it was the most responsible decision she could make as she was in no position to care for them herself. This was the early 1960's. She was a single woman who didn't have the means to support one child, let alone two. When she told me that story, I remember starting to cry, because I could imagine how painful it was for her. I am sure it wasn't easy for her to share that, but I believe she did, because she wanted more for me. She knew I wanted attention and love, much like she did. However, she also knew that the trashy clothes and the porn star makeup was NOT the right way to go about getting it.
Fast forward to March 25, 2012.
My phone rings.
It's my mother.
We have small talk for a minute or so. Then, she says that there are couple of things she thought she should talk to me about. My knee jerk reaction was to say, "please tell me you're not getting married again!", to which she, thankfully, replied, "no" and even offered up a chuckle or two. It was then that she told me one of the children she had, a boy, found her. He did a little searching on google, found her email address and sent her a note. They ended up speaking on the telephone and connecting on facebook.
It took me by surprise, not because I didn't know about it, but because, in that moment, things changed. For years, I had known that my mother had two children out of wedlock and, somewhere out there, I had half-siblings. But now, one of them had a name. And a face. And a family.
It was a lot to take in. I'm sure it shook my mother up a bit too, but in a good way. After all these years, she gets to revisit that part of her life and change her story. She gets to take the benefit of her experience and maturity and reconnect with her biological child. It's not that she has to "make up for lost time" or "right a wrong". She just gets a second chance. We all are deserving and worthy of those, aren't we?
I, for one, am happy for her and for him. It's made me think an awful lot about my own relationship to my family. I'm not one for regrets, because no matter how much guilt or regret you may feel, it does nothing to change the course of history. But, it certainly has caused me to ponder my perspective, which tells me that, perhaps, my perspective needed a little changing. I've always known who I was and where I came from and have taken that gift for granted. My half-brother went many years without that information.
Since hearing the news, I've decided to reach out to the newest, yet oldest, member of my family. It's still very new and there will be a huge adjustment period for everyone involved (his family, my mother, my brother), but I'm optimistic. I don't know what the future holds, but I'm okay with that. I'm okay with taking it one day at a time.
Like sands through the hourglass, so are days of our lives.
Most of the time "real life" often pales in comparison. People are born, go to school, get a job, get married and have children. There are some variations here and there, but you get the idea. Because of this, many people would tune in and live vicariously through the adventures, trials and tribulations of their favorite characters. Kind of like an "escape from reality", so to speak.
And then, there are those few occasions when you experience something completely out of the ordinary, something, dare I say it, "soap opera-esque" (I'm inventing new words again).
Such an occasion has recently presented itself.
But, before "the big reveal", a little background.
When I was a teenager, wearing eyeliner that was too heavy and skirts that were too short, my mom sat me down to have a talk (no not "the talk"...been there, done that). She shared with me her struggles growing up that culminated in two pregnancies when she was a very young adult. It was a difficult time in her life, where she felt alone, disconnected and unloved. To make a long story short, she gave birth to both of those children and put them up for adoption. At the time, it was the most responsible decision she could make as she was in no position to care for them herself. This was the early 1960's. She was a single woman who didn't have the means to support one child, let alone two. When she told me that story, I remember starting to cry, because I could imagine how painful it was for her. I am sure it wasn't easy for her to share that, but I believe she did, because she wanted more for me. She knew I wanted attention and love, much like she did. However, she also knew that the trashy clothes and the porn star makeup was NOT the right way to go about getting it.
Fast forward to March 25, 2012.
My phone rings.
It's my mother.
We have small talk for a minute or so. Then, she says that there are couple of things she thought she should talk to me about. My knee jerk reaction was to say, "please tell me you're not getting married again!", to which she, thankfully, replied, "no" and even offered up a chuckle or two. It was then that she told me one of the children she had, a boy, found her. He did a little searching on google, found her email address and sent her a note. They ended up speaking on the telephone and connecting on facebook.
It took me by surprise, not because I didn't know about it, but because, in that moment, things changed. For years, I had known that my mother had two children out of wedlock and, somewhere out there, I had half-siblings. But now, one of them had a name. And a face. And a family.
It was a lot to take in. I'm sure it shook my mother up a bit too, but in a good way. After all these years, she gets to revisit that part of her life and change her story. She gets to take the benefit of her experience and maturity and reconnect with her biological child. It's not that she has to "make up for lost time" or "right a wrong". She just gets a second chance. We all are deserving and worthy of those, aren't we?
I, for one, am happy for her and for him. It's made me think an awful lot about my own relationship to my family. I'm not one for regrets, because no matter how much guilt or regret you may feel, it does nothing to change the course of history. But, it certainly has caused me to ponder my perspective, which tells me that, perhaps, my perspective needed a little changing. I've always known who I was and where I came from and have taken that gift for granted. My half-brother went many years without that information.
Since hearing the news, I've decided to reach out to the newest, yet oldest, member of my family. It's still very new and there will be a huge adjustment period for everyone involved (his family, my mother, my brother), but I'm optimistic. I don't know what the future holds, but I'm okay with that. I'm okay with taking it one day at a time.
Like sands through the hourglass, so are days of our lives.
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
My own March Madness
"Strange days indeed -- most peculiar, mama." -- John Lennon
It's March 13, 2012.
This time last year, I was in full steam ahead training mode for the 2011 Boston Marathon. My long run was up to about 18 miles.
I was also a blogging fool, having composed four posts each in the months of January and February and three up to this date in March.
Back to the present day: my longest run of 2012 is a mere 13.1 miles and I've only blogged three times. This entry serves as my fourth.
What the French, Toast?
Well, for the first time in several years, I am not registered for a spring marathon which feels...very odd. After going around and around this numerous times in my brain, I've decided it's best that I just focus on building a strong base. Sure, I can jump into a 26.2 miler in April or May, but to what end? I already know I can "do it". It's not like I have anything to prove. When I do commit to something, I like to be as prepared as possible, so I know I'll perform at a very high level. That matters to me. I won't half ass a marathon.
I can always do other stuff.
Perhaps, I'll run some shorter races with greater frequency, since I'm not married to a training schedule at the moment. Plus, the spring countdown has been reduced to T minus 7 days, which means more daylight and warmer temperatures. These conditions make running longer and more often much more palatable.
That explains the some of the madness. What's up with the blogging?
Maybe this is just a simple case of cause and effect. Since I'm not really "training", I don't have a lot of running stories to tell or, more importantly, I don't deem them newsworthy enough to share. I have been running 4-6 days a week since the first of the year, but I haven't really had a clear purpose. Some days, I got out there out of habit. Other days, I went for the pure joy of the movement. Even though this isn't strictly a "running blog", the subject does dominate.
Having said that, I've decided it's time to do SOMETHING. I signed up for the Hartford 1/2 Marathon, which takes place on 10/13/12. I'll be revisiting the site of my first and only DNF in a 26.2 mile race. However, I have no fear. Those demons were quieted long ago. Some new and fun friends who live in CT will be running. It will be a first for a couple of them and I'm excited to be a part of this experience. You always get a renewed sense of enthusiasm when you share a race with a newbie.
In addition, I registered for the Mohawk Hudson River Marathon in upstate NY. I blame Ted (I can never say no to him). The race is on 10/7/12...which JUST so happens to be six days prior to the Hartford Half. Yeah, yeah, I know. Conventional wisdom would suggest that this is not the "smartest thing" in the world to do, but, sometimes, you've just gotta throw caution to the wind and say "f**k it".
That's exactly what I'm going to do.
Sometimes, you have to go to extremes in order to find your balance.
Sometimes, you have to have a little madness to recapture your sanity.
"Sanity calms, but madness is more interesting." -- John Russell
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Fascination of the Abomination
"But it kills me, this fascination with celebrities' personal lives." -- Calista Flockhart
Friday, January 27, 2012
Cyndi Lou, Cyndi Lou, Wherefore Art Thou?
"It is good to feel lost... because it proves you have a navigational sense of where "Home" is. You know that a place that feels like being found exists. And maybe your current location isn't that place but, Hallelujah, that unsettled, uneasy feeling of lost-ness just brought you closer to it." -- Erika Harris
Today is January 27, 2012.
This is only my SECOND blog entry of the year.
I was going through my email the other day clicking on links to other people's blogs (of all things).
And then, it occurred to me the other day that I couldn't remember the last time I blogged.
Weird, right? I mean, I was on a ROLL. What happened to my rambling? No rants or rebuilding??
And the running! Oh, what of the RUNNING???
Well, there's been a little bit of everything thrown in there, but perhaps not as much as I'm accustomed to. I figured I'd end the three week blogging layoff by exploring "the 4 R's" that comprise my blog's title and exploring how I feel about each one.
Here goes...
RAMBLING:
I'm pretty sure I still do my fair share of that, as I've been told that I could talk a dog off a meat wagon. But, as I go through life and traverse the road to personal growth, I've learned the importance of saying LESS and listening MORE. This does not come easy for me as I like to "blah, blah, blah". I love to be the center of attention and I love to flex my "know it all muscles" whenever possible (I know that sounds pretty arrogant, but it's true). However, this expression has come to mind lately: God gave you TWO ears and ONE mouth, which means you should listen twice as much as you talk. Hmmmmm. Makes sense, doesn't it? I mean, I wonder, just how much good stuff have I been missing out on because I don't want to shut my yap? I suppose the beauty of blogging is that it's like my one woman show, right? My own personal monologue? If I have TWO ears, ONE mouth, and TEN fingers, well, then, the sky's the limit!!! Blog on, Cyndi Lou.
RANTING:
Defined: To speak or write in an angry manner; rave. To utter or express with violence or extravagance. A speech or piece of writing that incites anger or violence.
Eeeeeekkkkkk.
I think the only word of value there would be "extravagance". I don't like to think of myself as "chronically" angry, and I certainly don't want to incite anger or violence in my blog. I think the world is angry enough without me adding to it. But, perhaps, it's possible to keep the rants "playful"; you know, "rant and rave" about...oh, happy stuff. I can rave, utter and express with extravagance. I believe Abraham-Hicks calls that a "Rampage of Appreciation". Yeah. That sounds good. Maybe I can rant like THAT.
REBUILDING:
That's a process that is just ongoing, or at least it should be. I worked for a trucking company in my first year of college and my most vivid memory was something my boss at the time said to me: when you're green, you're growing; when you're ripe, you rot. Quite the picture, eh? Pretty powerful statement, isn't it? Will we ever come to completion? Will we see all of our hopes and dreams come to fruition, never daring to hope and dream again??? I suppose that, if and when that happens, that would mean we would transition out of this time space reality once and for all. You're never going to get it done and you can't get it wrong (also a tasty Abraham-Hicks nugget). Just when you manifest one of your desires, you'll feel another one pop up almost instantly. We're not meant to stand still; to be static and unchanging. There will always be breaking down and building up to do. At least while we draw breath.
RUNNING:
In 2011, I ran over 2,300 miles. It was a personal best for me. I ended up averaging +/- 45 miles per week. I tend to be a creature of habit. Once I get into a routine, I feel duty bound to it. I assume a sense of responsibility to adhere to the schedule. I have been doing two marathons a year since 2008. My life has been repeated cycles of train for 20-24 weeks and then rest/recover for 4-6 weeks. Lather, rinse and repeat. Since I ran the Chicago Marathon, I've been sorta winging it. I did that half-hearted bid to train for Honolulu, but it didn't "feel right", so I abandoned ship. Since then, I've allowed life to just "happen". If I have an opportunity to go away for a romantic weekend with my husband, I go...even if it means missing out on a Sunday morning run. If I have an opportunity to attend an out of state conference (i.e. AdvoCare Success School), I go...even if it means not running for two days in a row. In the past, these things would have me unbearably rattled. Now, they just...are what they are. Running will always be there and I believe in my heart that I will always love and have a passion for it. But, maybe, I need to add a 5th "R" to my blog: RELAXING. When I decided to stop resisting the flow of life and live more "moment to moment", something shifted in my personality. I feel the old "all or nothing/perfectionist" part of me has been minimized considerably. I think I like it.
To sum it all up, maybe I don't rant, ramble, rebuild and run like I used to, but maybe I'm just learning how to rant, ramble, rebuild and run better. Maybe I'm not as "lost" or "disconnected" from who I think I am at all.
Maybe I just haven't finished shedding my skin yet.
"Not until we are lost do we begin to understand ourselves." -- Henry David Thoreau
Friday, January 6, 2012
Random Acts of Rambling
The next time you come in contact with an angry person, picture them not as cantankerous, ornery or mean. Instead, see them as the frightened child they really are. That way, you will feel only compassion towards them, as opposed to becoming defensive. Anger originates from fear, and 99.9% of the time, that fear has NOTHING TO DO WITH YOU, but EVERYTHING TO DO WITH THEM.
I wasn't supposed to be a healthy, strong athlete. At age 20, I was a cigarette smoker who didn't exercise and was toting around more weight than I needed. Isn't it nice to know that we aren't "supposed" to be anything forever? We get to choose all day, every day; minute by minute, moment by moment. I am not ashamed of who I was and where I came from. I am just very proud of who and where I now am.
The beauty of forgiving and loving someone? It doesn't have to be reciprocated for you to benefit from it. I had a personal relationship come to a screeching halt recently. At first, I got angry and tried the old "talk to the hand/screw you" routine. And then, I got real. I decided I was hurt. Not only was I hurt, but it was okay that I be hurt. When you lose something or someone important, the only thing to do is grieve. So, I grieved the loss of my friend. I felt the sadness. I let myself go through all of that. I have since forgiven. I continue to forgive everyday, because I choose to. And I will love. Even if I am not loved back.
Tis the season to be busy...fa la la la la...la la la laaaaaa. I work in the fitness industry and "tourist season" is in full swing. We sort of joke about it since it's the same situation every year: people come in droves only to leave the same way weeks, or days, later. I love what I do and I'm thankful that I'm in the position to help people. I can help you with an exercise plan. I can help you find healthy food to eat. I can help you find ways to take better care of yourself. But, I can't fix YOU. I can't fix the deep seated anxiety, fear, or self-loathing. Only YOU can do that. Only YOU can fix what is broken. Until that happens, my hands are tied.
Today is my first early shift back to work. I have been enjoying sleeping as long as I want, without having to set the alarm. I have had lots of animosity towards the 6-2ish shifts that I am scheduled for. I prefer waking up when my body says it's time and doing my run/workout before I start my day. In times past, I *probably* took it out on the members a teeny, weeny bit, without meaning to (i.e. what the f**k is wrong with you??? Why can't you sleep until a decent hour like a normal person?!?!?) But, it is as it should be, and this is when I am needed to be here. So, my cell alarm rang at 4:49 a.m. (what can I say? I'm quirky). I hit snooze once, then got up, dressed, brushed my teeth, splashed water on my face, made my spark and left the house between 5:10-5:15. I got here 10 minutes before opening and had plenty of time to get myself settled. As I began to settle in, I noticed something: I felt light, calm and relaxed. I was...happy. I have been in a good mood all day. This has been an unexpected blessing. Maybe I should just start expecting blessings more often.
Quote of the Day:
I wasn't supposed to be a healthy, strong athlete. At age 20, I was a cigarette smoker who didn't exercise and was toting around more weight than I needed. Isn't it nice to know that we aren't "supposed" to be anything forever? We get to choose all day, every day; minute by minute, moment by moment. I am not ashamed of who I was and where I came from. I am just very proud of who and where I now am.
The beauty of forgiving and loving someone? It doesn't have to be reciprocated for you to benefit from it. I had a personal relationship come to a screeching halt recently. At first, I got angry and tried the old "talk to the hand/screw you" routine. And then, I got real. I decided I was hurt. Not only was I hurt, but it was okay that I be hurt. When you lose something or someone important, the only thing to do is grieve. So, I grieved the loss of my friend. I felt the sadness. I let myself go through all of that. I have since forgiven. I continue to forgive everyday, because I choose to. And I will love. Even if I am not loved back.
Tis the season to be busy...fa la la la la...la la la laaaaaa. I work in the fitness industry and "tourist season" is in full swing. We sort of joke about it since it's the same situation every year: people come in droves only to leave the same way weeks, or days, later. I love what I do and I'm thankful that I'm in the position to help people. I can help you with an exercise plan. I can help you find healthy food to eat. I can help you find ways to take better care of yourself. But, I can't fix YOU. I can't fix the deep seated anxiety, fear, or self-loathing. Only YOU can do that. Only YOU can fix what is broken. Until that happens, my hands are tied.
Today is my first early shift back to work. I have been enjoying sleeping as long as I want, without having to set the alarm. I have had lots of animosity towards the 6-2ish shifts that I am scheduled for. I prefer waking up when my body says it's time and doing my run/workout before I start my day. In times past, I *probably* took it out on the members a teeny, weeny bit, without meaning to (i.e. what the f**k is wrong with you??? Why can't you sleep until a decent hour like a normal person?!?!?) But, it is as it should be, and this is when I am needed to be here. So, my cell alarm rang at 4:49 a.m. (what can I say? I'm quirky). I hit snooze once, then got up, dressed, brushed my teeth, splashed water on my face, made my spark and left the house between 5:10-5:15. I got here 10 minutes before opening and had plenty of time to get myself settled. As I began to settle in, I noticed something: I felt light, calm and relaxed. I was...happy. I have been in a good mood all day. This has been an unexpected blessing. Maybe I should just start expecting blessings more often.
Quote of the Day:
"May the sun shine, all day long, everything go right, and nothing wrong. May those you love bring love back to you, and may all the wishes you wish come true!" -- Irish Blessing
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
Day 106-Family
"The family. We were a strange little band of characters trudging through life sharing diseases and toothpaste, coveting one another's desserts, hiding shampoo, borrowing money, locking each other out of our rooms, inflicting pain and kissing to heal it in the same instant, loving, laughing, defending, and trying to figure out the common thread that bound us all together." -- Erma Bombeck
Today, I am thankful for my family, specifically, my cousins. I have taken a couple of vacation days from work. My husband and I will be taking a ride down to East Longmeadow, MA today to see my cousin, Scott. His sister, Laurie, is coming up from Toms River, NJ this afternoon and we'll all be rendezvousing there.
My grandmother had two sets of fraternal twins, the first being my aunt and my mother, Elaine and Eileen respectively. Elaine went on to have a son four months younger than my brother and a daughter 16 months younger than me. As a result, we grew up playing together since we were all so close in age. Through the years, we have stayed close, even when they both lived in New Jersey and my brother and I were both up in New England. Now, we are all adults (all in our 40's, except for Laurie, but her time is coming in 2013) and have built a friendship that is lasting and strong.
We share DNA, history and so much more. It's a lot of fun and I appreciate having them in my life.
Off to play!
"Cousins by blood – friends by choice." -- Darlene Shaw
Today, I am thankful for my family, specifically, my cousins. I have taken a couple of vacation days from work. My husband and I will be taking a ride down to East Longmeadow, MA today to see my cousin, Scott. His sister, Laurie, is coming up from Toms River, NJ this afternoon and we'll all be rendezvousing there.
My grandmother had two sets of fraternal twins, the first being my aunt and my mother, Elaine and Eileen respectively. Elaine went on to have a son four months younger than my brother and a daughter 16 months younger than me. As a result, we grew up playing together since we were all so close in age. Through the years, we have stayed close, even when they both lived in New Jersey and my brother and I were both up in New England. Now, we are all adults (all in our 40's, except for Laurie, but her time is coming in 2013) and have built a friendship that is lasting and strong.
We share DNA, history and so much more. It's a lot of fun and I appreciate having them in my life.
Off to play!
"Cousins by blood – friends by choice." -- Darlene Shaw
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)