This is where I’m supposed to either say my credentials, or tell about myself, or offer deep reasons about why I decided to start spouting wisdom to the world.   Anyone who knows me, however, will giggle and say “U-oh.  Jo pretty much never does what people says she’s supposed to.  Get ready and watch THIS!”

I will tell you that I am Jo and I am on the other side of 60.  Sometimes what comes out of my mouth shocks people – at least until later when they think about it.  Maybe much later.   Sometimes, as they lay bleeding from their heart, they  tell me I am wise.  Some say I am a just a Narcissistic person.   Actually that only  happened once, and that came from a psychiatrist at the V.A. a few months ago when I told her I was sometimes called a wise woman.  Oops, did you get that clue there?  (Grin!)

So growing up, the only time boys talked to me was for advice.  Or needed a band-aid. Eventually I did get married and have kids, so one of the boys – okay, MORE than one – saw more.  Even then, I was Aunt Jo and Mamma Jo to kids of all colors, sizes, ages, cultures, disabilities, and financial situations throughout the years.  Going to town with a group of these kids all calling me Mamma Jo was a trip, I tell you.  The looks I got!

They taught me as much as I ever taught them.    But my heart belongs to the elderly. Always has, and still does.  I loved sitting with my Pawpaw (my Dad’s dad) after working beside him on his truck farm.  We’d work on tomatoes, beans, and all kinds of vegetables. Get them ready for selling on weekends.  Then sit and talk about his younger days.  The things he would tell.

Other times I would sit by my Grandma (my Mom’s mom) and listen to her complain until everyone left the room wondering how I could put up with her.  Then, she would begin to talk.  Ah, the things she would share.  Their lives were so hard – dirt poor we called it in those days.  But the fun they had!  Games they played like “smut.”  I don’t mean dirty sex either.  It was a card game, and if you lost, everyone else reached over to the wood stove and got smut from the pipe and wiped it on your face.  The loser walked home so black you couldn’t see them in the dark! OMG!

This blog thing is not an agenda to make money as far as Jo is concerned.  There will be no ads nor links here.  Just offerings like this.  Discussion and sharing – what I dearly love to call CONFABULATION.  That is my favorite word this decade!  Look it up – I don’t spoon feed adults.

Somethings else, I don’t promise to write everyday, though I probably will.  With so much in my head and heart and with all I’ve already written in my journal and on scraps of paper and napkins and in letters, I have quite a bit we can confabulate about.  So, here we go – let me see about getting this thing shared with a few of my dearest friends and see where it wonders off to on its own.

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