Be Careful What You Wish For

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It appears nothing interesting happened this week so I posted this blog from 2018 out of desperation…

I’m driving along, again wondering what I should blog about this week. What can I write that you might want to read? So I thought, I wish something interesting would happen so I don’t resort to posting a previous blog out of desperation. Word of advice:

be careful what you wish for

Recently I’ve undergone some procedures: a bone scan for oldies like me, a pap smear, mammogram…all the fun stuff. So I’m getting my pap when the doctor says, “I see you have osteoporosis.” What? Appears my bone scan showed I’d graduated from soft bones to full-fledged-about-to-crumble-bones.

Oh the joys of being short, small-boned and Caucasian (risk factors for osteoporosis).

Then the next day I had a mammogram even though, as I’m pushing 63, they suggest doing it every 2-3 years. They can suggest all they want; I get one every year.

better safe than sorry

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The Perks of Aging (Yes, There Are Some)

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There’s something to be said about crossing over from being a ‘miss’ to becoming a ‘ma’am’. As it turns out, that little ditty happened to me many moons ago and let me tell ya, it was a shocker when I heard it.

It happened in a grocery store when the clerk asked me,”ma’am, would you prefer paper or plastic bags?” I was around 40 years old and totally speechless for a moment, realizing he was talking to ME. I quickly regrouped from the shock and said, “Paper please,” and drove home in a daze.

Getting long in the tooth, as they used to say, happens to the best of us and thank goodness it does. I mean, I’m in no hurry for the alternative. Now don’t get me wrong; it’s not all bad getting old. As it turns out, there are a few nice perks to aging, hard as that seems.

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If I Had Known Then What I Know Now…

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Isn’t it interesting what time teaches us?But I guess that’s the point. We aren’t supposed to know everything when we’re pimply faced youngsters. Unless we’re Steve Jobs. Alas, I was nowhere near that brainy when I started on my life’s path. Nor am I now. Continue reading →

What’s Happened To Me?

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I usually pride myself on being organized around the house; everything has it’s place and all that. Should someone stop by for an impromptu visit, I wouldn’t be embarrassed by fur balls collected under the piano. Why? Because normally they’d be swept up.

And if a friend were to go into my garage pantry, first I’d wonder why, but then I’d be happy she thought I wouldn’t mind. And I wouldn’t. But if she did that today, I’d be embarrassed by its disorganization. I’m usually compulsively neat — products lined up, labels facing forward, matching items near each other, etc. But it’s currently in disarray. See what I mean?

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C’est La Vie

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I can’t have nice things.

That’s because within months, sometimes weeks, they are no longer nice things. You see, I have a tendency to spill, rip, stain, break and generally ruin stuff.

unknown goop on my tennis top

unknown goop on my tennis top

On those rare occasions when I do have nice things, I try to be so careful that I usually end up doing exactly what I tried hard to avoid. Like being told not to think about the pink elephant in the room. Once it’s in your brain, that’s ALL you can think about.

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