Introduction? Here it goes? The beginning?

When I think back on my childhood, I smile. A big smile.

Perhaps it was due to the overload of love and affection I received. I was the youngest of three. Twelve year difference from my sister and ten years from my brother. I can remember my brother taking me for long bike rides. I don't think I was any older than 5 or 6 years old.

He would take our Mother's decorative pillow, tie it onto the middle of the bicycle bar with string, and there I sat in all my glory! I was the Princess and he was my Coachman. We would venture off to Mr. Papavich's for homemade snowballs which were sold out of this kind Polish neighbors garage. Then as we arrived home, my Coachman....Michael would get an earful from our Mother who was wondering why her favorite decorative pillow vanished from the couch- once again. Finally I did receive an "upgrade" on my transportation. My sister Deborah, owner of the classiest black Falcon would take me for car rides. Now of course the view from the back seat of a little black Falcon was not the easiest when your head just barely reached the window. However, back then I would sit on my knees and look out the window while passing through our neighborhood. (of course I was in a lap style seat belt)

The neighborhood where I grew up in Pennsylvania, was primarily Italian-American and Polish-American.

On warm summer evenings the "elders of the block" sat on their front stoops. These elders, knew whose children belonged to whom as we played throughout the neighborhood until sunset.

Barbers and funeral home directors were on each corner. Drug stores and malt shops. A busy but quiet city.

Wow, I miss those days.

My parents, they too showered me with love and affection. They were a popular couple. My father strong. My mother beautiful. Looking at them you would think they should be sitting with the rest of the Rat Pack in Atlantic City. Instead, they were raising three children. Working, setting rules and boundaries. Attending family picnics and planning holiday parties. PTA meetings and First Holy Communions.

Having "opened minded" parents while growing up in the 70's certainly didn't hurt. My friends idolized me for having such "cool" parents. My mother and father always had an open dialogue. There was no topic we couldn't discuss. Except one- you will later hear about.

What was taboo in most of my friends homes....it was easily explained and talked over with ease in my home.

And I thank God for that today. As a mother of three, I now have the tools I need to guide and teach my own children. When I long for the days when my canvas was nothing but pink & glitter......I take a deep breath, then eat some chocolate. Oh, yeah...thank goodness for chocolate! {wink}

I am on a journey- which I would like to invite you to come along...... I've always wanted to write a book.

I do not have any formal training {duh, right} and I have never done anything like this before. In some way, I'm feeling a driving force pushing me to do this. Or perhaps I should say- I'm feeling gently guided.

So, grab a cup of tea and come with me on my journey........

Peace&Love,

Lis~