Actually, that’s probably kinda low since I’m not exactly a high-traffic blog!

I used to check the comments that were marked as spam. At about 200-500 spam comments day…too many to review so I just delete ‘em all without looking.

Does spam work? I don’t see how it works, I don’t click on any of that stuff. But then I’m not into shopping (cars, shoes, purses, clothes…) or drugs or videos (XX+XY, XX+XX, XY+XY, XY+XX+XX, XY+pretty much anything you can think of and beyond) or enhancements.

If you have no idea what the heck I’m referring to, I’m glad. You’re in a Happy Place!
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Catching up in the news and what happened at the birthday party of a mutual friend. I couldn’t make it - I had plans.

He told me who showed up, the gifts, the food.

He said, “But what was weird was when everyone started talking about their health.”

I said, “Their health?”

He said, “Yeah, it’s not like we’re that old but they started talking about their health and the drugs they have to take!”

I said, “Drugs?”

He said, “It was strange - like we were all old folks or something.”

This particular group of friends is from my college days and we’re all about the same age - late 30s to early 40s.

I said, “Seems like people start talking about what body parts are failing around our age. But it seems a bit young to start taking drugs.”

He goes on to mention the prescription drugs and health problems various friends have.

I thought about the drugs in my bathroom. They are all over-the-counter and I rarely take any of them.

I do take plenty of supplements from Calcium to CoEnzyme Q10.

I enjoy antioxidants in the form of dark chocolate, coffee and red wine.

I started to think about how often I’ve seen the giant bottles of various painkillers on office shelves at work, in kitchens and on bathroom shelves.

I thought about how many times I’ve heard someone tell me that they had to take some type of anti-inflammatory.

I realized how fortunate I am. I don’t suffer from any chemical imbalances that affect my emotional state, I don’t have any allergies that require I take medication and no health conditions.

Sometimes I ache from all my running but I try to listen to my body and rest.

Seems like we take a lot of drugs in this country. Sometimes I wonder if people think that if a drug is over-the-counter, it “doesn’t count” as a drug or that it’s safe.

My shoes may be on drugs, but luckily, I seldom am.

I’m still working on the rest of my story about A Very Special Gift. Much has been going on in my life. It’s been inneresting.

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These are my running shoes on the trail …

These are my running shoes on drugs …

Any questions?
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But the very nature of the gift is that it should be shared. I have struggled with how to share my very special gift. Some gifts change your life.

I wanted to share my gift with you in such a way that it changes your life for the better.

My gift begins with a story …

Once upon a time, I was Daddy’s Little Girl.

My daddy is young and handsome and strong and I know he will take care of me.

My parents are young and there isn’t much money but I don’t notice the lack.

I love Saturdays. Daddy and I get up early. Just the two of us. I am 4 years old and Mommy is still asleep and the apartment is quiet.

Daddy and I are going grocery shopping and leave early to avoid the rush.

But first we have breakfast. We don’t always go to the same place but there are always nice waitresses and sticky vinyl chairs and a booster seat.

Eating out is a big treat. Eating out with Daddy - a bigger treat!

The years go by and daddy is always working and tired and the house is a mess and everything is weird and I do my best, my very best, to be a good little girl.

I get good grades. I say please. I say thank you.

I follow the rules, I draw inside the lines, I cook, I clean. I’m good.

I can’t fix what is wrong. What is wrong with me?

Mommy and Daddy argue, Mommy cries, Daddy shouts, no one is happy.

Mommy and Daddy separate. I think this is a good thing.

I didn’t know that Daddy and I would separate, that I would no longer be his little girl.

My story is one told over and over in homes across the world.

It’s not a fairytale but it’s one that many know by heart.

Once upon a time, I was Daddy’s Little Girl.

I know the ending to this story but I’m not sure how I’ll get there. As with most of my stories, there will be forgiveness and understanding.

And love. There is always love.

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A good and very appropriate day for a Free Write because I can write. What I want. There may be laws about what I can write or say against others if they are untrue, but I can stand on the corner and shout insults at passers-by if I want to.

I am free to EXpress myself.

Cool.

Independence. Being on my own. That was a bit step. A great step. In being on my own I learned a lot about what I was capable of and not having to beHOLDing to anyone. When you’re independent you have cut the strings and you can say NO and there is nothing anyone can do about it.

When you’re independent you can choose what you want. You don’t have to take what is given to you.

What else? Independence and being independent is good for the spirit, it flies free. I think of indepence as soaring and going my own way.

Not sure what else to write. In-de-pend-ence. Depends. No I do not want to talk about adult diapers. But maybe I should. I mean, you get older and sometimes you end up losing your independence because now you have to depend on the care of others. The kindness of strangers perhaps. Like being a “little old lady” and having to have someone help you across the street.

Older folks don’t want to stop driving because then they feel they have lost a big part of their independence. But then you sometimes have to step in and take away the keys because they are mistaking the accelerator for the brakes and going around accidentally killing people.

Eek. Negative thoughts! But sometimes you end up having to depend on others and dependence can have it’s beautiful side - a parent caring for a child, or even..a child caring for their aging parent. It’s dependence but without strings. Or maybe strings that are love. Love, I”m glad I’m ending withlove beecause love is what I think about a lot - how to love and love well and seeing the sands of time go by and wondering if I will learn the lessons I

Time over.

Feel free to check out what I wrote last year.

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