Category Archives: Aging

The joys of getting older

Where Are We Again?

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don't foget A couple weeks ago I divulged my innate ability to get lost (even with GPS). This week, why not tackle my skill at losing things? Things like my keys, my mind and my glasses. I thought I’d slip in the losing my mind reference without much notice, but seems you were paying attention.

My nickname in high school was Skippy because I was, well, a bit scattered and yes, forgetful. Still am. Friends even went so far as to choose that name as my personalized license plate. Motorists thought I loved peanut butter or had a passion for skipping. Little did they know. I’ve been know to forget having met someone. Unbelievable, huh? Sometimes I don’t recall places I’ve supposedly visited. I’ve even watched an entire movie then realized, as the credits rolled, that I’d seen it before. I’ve always been this way, which in a sense gives me comfort. Continue reading →

Good To Go

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Recently I wrote about an optometrist discovering I have weird eyes in that the angle around the inside edges (to simplify a complicated explanation) is tilted in such a way that my eye fluid (yes, we have eye fluid), wasn’t draining like it should which could result in glaucoma and possible blindness if gone undetected. So a couple weeks ago an ophthalmologist made a hole in my left retina with a laser and on Friday he lasered the right . Let the draining begin!

Apparently as we age, it’s not just aches and pains we deal with. We can get something called shingles, which is said to be hiding in the bodies of adults over 50 who have had chicken pox. Yikes. Seems it plays hide seek with us so we never know when it’ll pop out, like Jack in the Box (the toy, not the fast food restaurant).

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Does Wisdom Really Come With Age?

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(I reprinted this post from 2013, which sadly is still relevant today.)

They say with age comes wisdom. I’m not so sure I believe that. You see, I’m not exactly a spring chicken so you’d think I’d be pretty smart by now, wouldn’t you? There’s no doubt I’ve learned stuff along the way that’s helped me navigate through life. But in some areas I’m still quite lacking. And for that I blame my poor memory. How can I acquire this wisdom if my memory is on strike?

For instance, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve misplaced my keys. When I walk into the house, I should have a routine where I put them, don’t you think? Sounds reasonable to me. If I had a routine it would go like this: place the keys in a bowl on the counter. How hard is that? Apparently very.

Where my keys should go

My mind is like a game of leap frog. It jumps from one thing to another. So by the time I exit the car, walk to the door, open it and walk in, I’m already on to another thought. I think I’ll make myself a grilled cheese sandwich then water the annuals. Oh, and I suppose I should fertilize while I’m at it. And so it goes…

Any conscious thought about keys became lost within the 20-foot span it took me to get into the house. Poof!

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Don’t Mess With Me

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sweet quote

I have a lot of people fooled because many are under the assumption I’m a sweet and kind person who probably doesn’t swear or even gossip. Boy are those people mistaken. Now don’t get me wrong; I’m not saying I’m a total bitch or anything, although I know some who disagree. You’ll meet them later.

I think I’m a decent human being. But if you continually aggravate me, all bets are off. And swearing? If you were a fly stuck in my car, you’d raise your eyebrows (if flies had eyebrows) with what emerges from these thin lips of mine as I rant over perceived inept drivers.

fly

Let me out! This woman is crazy

And gossip? Guilty as charged. To demonstrate, I’ll quote a line from the movie, Steel Magnolias…

gossip quote

Yes friends, I admit I love me some juicy gossip.

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Gaining on the Golden Years

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Busy, busy, oh so busy…therefore please enjoy this post from 2013 and I’ll be back next week…

Last year, after my 56th birthday, I began to understand what the phrase, “feeling your age,” actually entails. What caught me by surprise, however, is how it looks.

Evidently, my  appearance has betrayed me. Strangers no longer refer to me as “miss.” At some point, I stepped over that invisible threshold into a new reality. I am now known as “ma’am.”

me leaning on pole

Apparently this is how “ma’am” looks

Aging is sly the way it sneaks up on you. There are no bulletins to announce its arrival. It suddenly appears when you aren’t paying attention. Looking in the mirror one day, you wonder whose face is staring back. Personally, I never saw it coming.  Continue reading →