I can’t really say my memory is not what it used to be because mine has always been pathetic. Some people are fortunate enough to recall childhood memories, such as who came to their ninth birthday party. I don’t even remember being nine, let alone a party. It’s gone – completely obliterated from the deep crevices of my gray matter.
Since my past has shaped the person I am today, it would be nice if I had a tad more recall. Bits and pieces of my life may be buried in the corners of my mind, but they’re stuck like Super Glue and not about to budge. For some, just mentioning a name or word from the past is all it takes to release the floodgates, and their memories spill out with perfect recall. Those people annoy me.
I have to say I’m writing this sorely aware of pretty much every muscle in my body. I say sorely because I believe I feel pain in just about every fiber of all 640 muscles. Did you know we have that many? Me neither. I had to look it up. But my point is, I feel pain in all of them.
Let me explain…remember when I juiced for 10 days to help cleanse my system of the baked Cheetos and taffy I keep stashed in the console of my SUV? You don’t?! Well then, you need to read my post: Welcome To My Detox.
Turns out I spend an inordinate amount of time in my vehicle traveling to trap feral cats for spay/neuter. A gal gets hungry you know. Nothing worse than trapping at Dillon Beach miles from a grocery store when a hankerin’ for cheese and crackers hits. So I keep a stash of edibles in my console. Sometimes they aren’t what one would call healthy snacks. Hence the cleanse. Continue reading →
If you haven’t yet reached the age where you’re referred to as ma’am or sir, this posting will mean nothing to you so feel free to go about your day. Or, on second thought, read this so you’ll educate yourself as to what awaits when you wake up one day and realize you’re officially a senior, aka long in the tooth, past your prime, seasoned…
Now don’t get me wrong; it’s not like I just entered this realm. In the US, people are considered seniors once they reach age 62. So I’ve already had four years of experience being old. And like anything, there’s good and bad in that.
First the good: A senior gets discounts at movie theaters and on certain days at some grocery stores — not particularly exciting when you consider the trade-off. But qualifying for Medicare and Social Security makes it tolerable. Another aging perk is that men take pity on me, sometimes offering to carry heavy items to my car. Little do they know I can manage on my own. But why spoil their feel good moment and tell them?
Now the bad: Well, how much time do you have? Just kidding. I bet you think aches and pains are front and center. Actually I’m lucky there. I try to keep in shape, work out, play tennis, blah, blah, blah. So once I’m up and moving, I’m good to go.
What’s hardest for me is going blind. Well, not actually blind but sometimes it feels that way. Sad to say, this is a normal aspect of aging. Things started getting blurry in my mid 40s when I couldn’t read the fine print in the phone book anymore. Yes, for you youngsters, there were once phone books.
I recently made the mistake of buying a 10x magnifying mirror. I ask you, what was I thinking? There’s no good reason to buy an item that only magnifies your imperfections while accentuating those you had no idea you even possessed. But did that stop me?Let’s face it – we live in a youth-oriented society. Wrinkles are not appreciated here like in Japan or the Philippines, where those with nooks and crannies are revered for the wisdom that comes with age (accompanied by great storytelling). Nursing homes? What are those? Continue reading →
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.
Now Don't Get Me Wrong 