I may regret this.

Deep breath in.....and cleansing breath out. Deep breath in........and hold it and hold it...keep holding it.. okay here it goes...

My sister started a blog. Her name is Rechelle. Not Rachel, not Rochelle not Rahchele, not Racquel, RECHELLE. Supposedly it means "little angel". My dad made me very happy when he recently stated that he's always liked my name, but regrets naming Rechelle, because nobody spells it right and rarely pronounces it correctly. I always envied that she got to spell her name for people when she was registering for a class or whatever. For awhile I started spelling my name APRYL just to be able to tell people they were wrong when they assumed it was just normal APRIL. But then there wasn't much about me that was normal, so go figure why I would want to add to my list of freakishness.

Now, when I started my blog a year or so ago, I told all my family members to come read. And then I wrote a few things and I waited and waited and went and ate some cookies and waited some more. Not one single blood relative read my blog. Sad, but true. The only way I can get them to read anything I write is if I email it to them or slap a stamp on it and send it in the mail. When I see them on visits some of them might say things like, "Oh, do you still have that thing you write?" or "What's your blog address again, I want to start reading it" and my favorite, "I don't read blogs and I'll never read yours". Which may make you wonder why on earth I don't write more about the crazy people that make up my family. Hmmm? I wonder too. But, actually I don't really want to give them any sort of credit. And yet, here I am about to tell you where my sister's blog sight is.

But first, a little about my sister. She's older than me, a whole 18 months older. Most people think I'm older, I'm certain people thought this because I was taller, but now I think it's because I'm so mature for my age. I'm also prettier, funnier, have straighter teeth, better hair, cuter kids and a waaaaay better outlook on life. I also make more rules, keep a cleaner house, drive a better car and wear cuter shoes. She on the other hand is far more talented and smarter. She writes better stories and plays the guitar. She writes music, directs a youth choir, paints her house bright colors, sings in front of large crowds, writes plays, and wears cuter shirts. She also has more jewelry and better skin than I do. We both are blessed with an excruciatingly loud cackle, a sense of humor and big butts, mine is bigger, but still I'm prettier, did I say that already?

Okay, go read, it's all good. Let the breath out through your nose, but don't spray boogers on my computer screen! Country Doctor's Wife