G is for GENUINE. I am the real deal, and I make no excuses for it. I don't buy into the "keep up with the Joneses" attitude, or try to fit in with the cookie-cutter-designer-jean-buying women who sit at the soccer games and make mindless chatter. I am sure I will offend some of you with this comment, but this is life-according-to-Barb, with no filter. I decided to give up trying to be like the herd years ago, and just embrace my weirdness. I know most women can relate to what I am saying here, but are just not brave enough to blog about it. All I can say to that is . . break free! It is SO liberating! It is said that "it takes a gentle tongue to say things sincerely, and a courageous soul to show it". Okay . . .so I don't have such a GENTLE tongue. People know where I stand, and those that truly are my friends appreciate it. 
G is also for GOOFY. Its what I want my GRANDKIDS to remember their GRANDMA BARB as. Nothing is too silly.(Way too much to say about the GRANDKIDS by the way, so that will have to be blogged about on another day). I am finding that Hailee comes by the odd Simon humor naturally, and so she appreciates the sometimes ridiculous things we talk about and do together when she is here. G is for GRANDPA SIMON. There is one good thing that came out of my Mom's passing, which is that I became so much closer to my Dad. He has always been so good to us, and we love hearing his stories and gleaning wisdom from his life's experience. G is also for GRANNY. She can be silly as well, and luckily she passed some of those GENES on to my husband, or otherwise he would not be able to tolerate me. She is probably the most GIVING person I know, and she always GUSHES about everything I make and do, even if I don't deserve it.
G is for GRACEFUL, which I am SO not! I never considered myself accident prone, but this year proved that to be true, for sure. I tripped over the computer desk drawer twice, once breaking my toe, and the other rupturing something on my right side. I never had it looked at, but I was sore for several weeks. I burned myself twice on the oven element, both times while taking a pie out. I nearly cut off my finger while cleaning the inside of a drinking glass. Their usually pain tolerant Mom gave the girls a scare, as I let out a pretty nasty scream and a few choice cusswords! GOLLY GOSH GEEZ! What a GOMER GOOBER am I??? (yeah right).
And lastly, G is for GOD, our eternal father. Without him, the possibility of being genuine, goofy, or graceful would not be possible. And neither would having Grandpas or Grannys, or watching GREAT basketball. GO GONZAGA!!!
