Yes, it is our moment in the sun (without the sun's help) when our faces turn beet red for no apparent reason except to announce to the  world "wow" look at my mercury go and we're not talking cars dude. When we  cross that threshold and begin to transform into those wild and wonderful  Tasmanian devils called "Dirty Lil' Witches."

Now don't get me wrong, it took  great inspiration to portray this roll. Not everyone is cut out for  it. There are seasons in the sun one must encounter, then  many, many, many, sleepless nights. Lets not forget the moments when we can't  remember what we walked across the room for, only to go

back to square one, and  remember, and get detoured along the way for that second attempt to retrieve what  the mind had once thought it needed - only to discover by nightfall you never  remembered it at all.

Oh yes, it takes a great competitive skill to know how to  handle those quick mood-ed seconds that could cost you a smile and a half in the  splitting of an atom. Only to realize hat it was just a passing  moment.

To be able to hold your head high while being pre-elected to be a worldly guinea pig for a span of one to five years. Becoming the test  instead of taking one. This is the time in which no man in his right mind would  dare to interfere with, if he did, he might be the guest of honor on a stick at  the next Hawaiian luau in the back yard.

This moment, that is so visual, a moment when we no  longer care if our legs are shaved or makeup is on. Our bodies ache as if to say  we picked up that 300-pound bar-bell at the gym, when we had only lifted the  trunk of the car. To be so drained as if someone cut your feet off and let  all the air right out. A physical therapy trip to the closest Wal-Mart is  just too much most days. Tolerance levels have been pushed to the max. Feeling  proud that you have just updated the dyslexic dictionary to now read all words backwards. A time when your editor says your nuts and really doesn't know how close he is to reality.

Yes, this is the time in which we truly earn our title  "Dirty Lil' Witches." To know I have come into life beginning as a small dusty  trail, later becoming consumed by a dust bowl and leading my trail of the hard dirt road, knowing that with just one more rain it will place things softer back  into my path and lead me to the sunset once more. 

I am proud to wear my name-tag, for I have worked hard to acquire my royal status. Oh the men, well, they don't even want to go there. I  asked my husband and a few others if they would like to trade places with the women in their lives. Well gals, we got them beat because they all declined with a similar comment … "Not on your life." So with that I will wind up this last  minute extrusion from my brain. The reason they call it menopause is very  simple - one, it puts men on pause and second, they evidentially started it because  it begins with MEN-o-pause. Which eludes them to the definition of our  predecessor the great PMS … Perfect Mental Science. 

My favorite part again arrives to sum up in a few words  that which I have taken your time to read by stretching it out. Life is  wonderful no matter which stage you are in. It doesn't always make it perfect,  but it does make it interesting. You must view each stage as a unique one,  everything from Captain Kangaroo, to Wizard of Oz and Bewitched, to a story  called The Notebook.

Most of us women know how life will be, a test no  different for a man to see, for as my husband so proudly put it, we as women may  experience it but they as men have to put up with it. So as we make those  MEN-tal notes, be kind to the other half for what you feel they may not comprehend, and if you're sorta witchy then you can find a way to MEN-d their attitude by putting MEN-thol on the MEN-u and simply let them know you will  always be in charge, for God made us the boss by allowing us to be called Women  … "WO-MEN." It's a phase of life we'll all survive. So don't get stressed, allow yourself to be alive, your at the age now where nothing really matters, so lets see if we can bring back streaking before it becomes a crime, just don't stop in the middle of  the road and bend over and holler "I found a  dime."
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