It was a cold, snowy day in Orville, Ohio on December 17th 1965 when the aliens came to earth to drop me off.

You see, I think that I’m part of an intergalactic experiment.

The plan is to drop me off with a human family that I have almost nothing in common with and see what happens.

I didn’t “get” them and they certainly didn’t “get” me.

I FELT like an alien.

Sometimes they looked at me like they KNEW I was an alien.

I think they loved me as best they could but as my father once said, “You aren’t the easiest person to get along with”.

I’m passionate and determined. Stubborn even.

I sketched and drew.

I’m very loving and loyal almost to a fault.

I made birthday presents.

I’m creative, fanciful and more than a little day dreamy.

I wrote stories.

I’m silly, sometimes immature, and I tell bawdy jokes.

I cook good food.

I’m impetuous, and curious, with just bit too much inappropriateness.

I have fun parties.

What’s so hard to love about that?

I’ve searched long and hard for 47 years to find people I do belong with.

My tribe.

People who understand that I need to create, to make, and to be loved and accepted.

People who also need to create, make and be loved by me.

Some of them I gave birth to, one of them I married and the rest are my friends and YOU, my dear readers.

Thank you to all of you who sent cards,  instant messages and posted on my social sites. Thank you for making me feel so LOVED!

I figure I’ve had more birthdays now that I will yet get to have (unless I live to be over 94 years old) and I want each one of them to be special.

You certainly helped make my birthday yesterday special.

Thank YOU!

Oh, and if you see strange lights in the sky followed by a visit with a person who seems like they might be feeling like an alien. Give them an extra hug, won’t you?

After all, they are probably just a creative soul looking for their tribe.