Embrace the Bacongal, and what ever I'm itching to say !

Today I am 44 years old.  I don't know what 44 is supposed to feel like, but I don't think I feel like what I thought 44 felt like when I was 22. I feel good.  I'm not in the same shape I was at 35, time seems to give less results for the same output.  But I can still do everything I want to. For my birthday this year I am giving myself a gift. I'm giving myself permission. Permission to have people in my life that I trust Permission to remove people from my life that hurt me, mistreat me, ignore my feelings or in any way directly make me feel less than who I am. Fortunately for me, there aren't very many people that fall into the category, I can think of 4 right now. Permission to laugh as loud as I want. Permission to wear what I want, even if I don't like my upper arms. (don't panic I'm not talking hot pants and crop tops ) Permission to live my life, with Riddick, as we see fit.  No one else really needs to like it. Peace Bacongal

Wow it doesn’t seem like it’s been September since I uploaded something to my blog.  I write all the time, and I think of uploading but I guess I forget the last part.  Last summer started smoothly, or as smoothly as it can be when you are remodeling your home.  Most of the labor was done by Riddick.  I’m the planner, accountant and sandwich maker. It was a huge job replacing flooring, windows, doors, siding and painting.  I’m grateful for Riddick but I’m even more grateful that we are done. The end of summer wasn’t nearly as smooth and definitely wasn’t planned.  Late August my step-son Ironman decided to move in with us and finish his senior year.  Without going into gory detail that combination of having my in-laws (whom I adore) and my 18 year old red headed step child (yes he really is) was beautiful chaos.  I don’t know how we all did it, but we did.  As Mama and Papa ventured south in the fall and Ironman started school there was a peaceful lull where it was just the