Once Upon a Time….

Once upon a time, there was a baby born…or according to some, hatched or even possibly left during an earlier alien trip to Earth which would explain why the The Kecksburg UFO incident which occurred on December 9, 1965, at Kecksburg, Pennsylvania, United States. It may also explain why have freckles {and one ‘devil’s kiss’ mole} that start on my left side and over my upper back and down the other arm forming a ‘star chart’ that matches the Draco {dragon} constellation {and yes had it checked with an astronomy buff}. That would make sense, too, in that my oriental zodiac is the Dragon. My sons tell me it’s my star chart back to my home planet, and due to a vaccination {the deep one shot kind not the multple more shallow one} I also have a ‘dimple’ in my right arm, which my younger son used to press because he said my head would pop back and show the alien running the body machine {as in Men In Black}.

Back when…well, I was younger…my mother once told someone that I was never a ‘child’, she tried to read to me once {a fairy tale}, and I stopped her. I learned to read on my own, other things mind you, and was speed reading by 4. I read pretty much every genre…EXCEPT ‘romance’ because most could make 50 Shades of Grey shake its head. Such types as hystical romance, oh excuse me, historical romance are rarely either, and so on ad nauseum, which is very apt saying with bookbub because they have about 1/3 of their book list with various forms of that, including the usually mislabelled ‘paranormal romance’. I usually don’t read horror, although not scared of anything on 2 legs, 4 legs, or NO legs at all, but with my ‘cgi’ type brain when reading they’re just ‘eh, what’.

Now before I was born/hatched/left behind by accident by aliens, my father {really or technically, whatever} was born January 14, 1941 in Coldwater Mississippi {explains that part of my accent}, mother {etc} born July 14, 1944 {no accent from her}, my brother {etc} March 14, 1963 {nothing at all alike}, then me July 14, 1964 {supposedly, js, and yes mother’s 20th} then my sister {ditto} July 14, 1965. Seeing a pattern here, maybe…. Oh, the rest of my accent is Texan, but northerner fast, not sure why but the accent is due to not really talking that much until I was about 7, as in could just didn’t want to talk to anyone much and rarely about general things.

Now I got older, got married, and had 2 sons; that is a story for another time, though. That was in my first marriage. My second marriage was to a John Mark, and we dated or whatever for a while, but being that I assume this is pg site will just gloss over the details, except for the Valentine’s Day shirt…picked it up on the way to the private bar he was waiting at, along with a couple of clothing items for myself, since had been at work {computer techs are clothed VERY comfortably and even a bit natty} and went to meet him. The shirt was from Valentine’s which had just passed, and I grabbed some of the liquid writing gel to write on the World’s Greatest Lover shirt…adding his name on top, and below the saying and on back something about For references call # {my actual tele # at the time}, for demonstrations {something like} call #NOG-OTO-HELL {yes, separated it’s no, go to hell}. There were several of his exes there that night, and I thought it was FUNNY, and sometimes my amusement is all that matters {and he thought it was funny as well}.

Well, I told you those stories so could tell you this one. We were going to get married, and his birthday was July 1, mine is July 14; we split the difference and got married on July 7th. We would have been married 18 years today {pretty sure, add it up, married in 1999, and ‘lost’ him in 2001. I was often asked if he was psycho {because of his looks and expressions} but as often responded, never to me so what did I care, he never would have hurt a hair on my very hairy head. We were Yin and Yang, he was the Maker of the Stars, the Protector of my Heart, my second husband always First in my Heart, one of the few males I have ever loved…and still love…because to love someone after their death is not hard, not at all…what is harder, ever so much harder, is to NOT love them until the day YOU die. They say it gets ‘easier’, but I don’t think it ever does; it numbs, a bit, but it’s always there, the what if’s and the what might have been’s. I still hurt, as if my heart is breaking, which of course that can’t be…my heart broke so many years ago. He was Bogie to my Bacall, and he was the ONLY one ever to call me ‘Baby’ and come away unhurt.

Bonnie {was named this but tend not to answer to it}, Dale Keck {see what I mean about Kecksburg}, Mom/Mother {depends on which kid}/Grandma, Baroness/Baronin, 1 of 7 {actually up to 15 now, 15 is Tie Breaker, was joke about STTNG Borg, Pooh {Jeff called me that}, Danica Geisha {Draco Geisa} {the girl with the Dragon freckles  , Wanine {which I think was actually something like Quonine or something but German and Benkai isn’t around to ask}, Gertrude/Gert/Trudy {has to do with OBE/Joe ODonnell it’s a Saint/Catholic thing, don’t ask}, KeyLargo/Key Largo/KL {use that one a few places}, Wild Bill Rice‘s joke joke about Abbe/Abbey Normal, Glitch Goddess {what else the WP peeps call me w/ KL}, Dalek Eck {Doctor Who reference}, Gracie {what JM called me}
no, none of them are Bitch…they all can be bitchy

No automatic alt text available.Image may contain: 2 people

Oh, and ‘our song’ the first one we ever danced to….

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