When I was an 18-month-old plump and very mischievous toddler, I was stricken with polio. Paralysis stole my mobility and I was only able to move my head from side to side. Then, when I was 2 years old, my mother was killed in a tornado. A year later, my father married and began a life that excluded me.

But that wasn’t’ the end of my life. It was a different beginning. My maternal grandmother raised me like I was her only child. When she died, I lived with four of my mother’s sisters and their families. Now, I have an “unofficial adopted” family and a slew of friends.

As you can see, my life – much like yours – has been a series of ups and downs. Some funny, some awful, but none as bad as it always seemed at the time.

I’m going to write about it all. I’ve been a journalist for 35 years. I love to travel, read, listen to jazz and play cards – especially spades. And I’m not afraid to ask for anything I want. And I speak my mind.

So, come along on this journey with me. Let’s be serious, let’s be sad, but always let’s keep our sense of humor. And don’t forget to tell me what’s on your mind, too.

Follow them, cheer them, give them some sisterly advice or join in the challenge as they try to trim their waists over the next 6 months.

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