My story began in Memphis, Tennessee.  I was not quite the boy my father wanted and was definitely not the southern belle my mother dreamed of, I was somewhere in between.  An island I visit constantly. 

A Southern Belle is described as charming, cultivated and graceful.  She is skilled in the arts of conversation, homemaking, cooking and is meticulous about her apperance as wlll as being Scarlett O'Hara flirtatious.

Me, well that's not exactly how I would be described.

F for Football
My third birthday presents were a football jersey and a helmet.  I could read the wishbone before I ever read “Dick and Jane” or watch the water bucket develop in the backfield before I could tie my shoes.  My idea of ballet was seeing a Lynn Swann pass reception on NFL Sunday afternoons.

Not a Traditional Belle
Anything but graceful, I am an accident that’s already happened over and over again... My Daddy would say “She is so clumsy she would trip over a cordless phone”. How many people do you know that go out for a jog and get smacked with a golf ball, have broken almost every bone on their right side including breaking both wrists at the same time? Between accidents I jog, hike, ski and always find time to write and read.

I wear my passion on my sleeve and unlike southern belles or Swiss misses that speak in hushed tones; I am almost always too loud. 
I inherited a few Belle traits; I love to cook almost as much as I like to eat and to entertain others when I do. I am a “go-girl” - traveling is my passion. In belle like fashion I have mastered the art of conversation and I can converse with friends and strangers in English, German, Swiss German or Vicki Deutsch.
 
F for Failing
John Maxwell „Fails Forward“.  I fail constantly.  I have mastered the art. If PHD’s were awarded, I would have more than one.  I even failed “Hausfrauen School”.  Maybe you’re thinking, is there such a thing and why on earth would anybody want to learn to be a house-wife? That is another story you really shouldn’t miss.