So last Wednesday I’m out of nectarines. Or maybe it was Burrata cheese. The point is, United Market carries the best of both so I made a quick stop. If you’ve never had Burrata before, I ask you, “Why the hell not?!” Simply drain the liquid, slice off a creamy section, drizzle it with olive oil, sea salt, freshly cracked black pepper and red pepper flakes (if you like to live dangerously) then dollop it on toasted, sliced baguettes rubbed ever so slightly with a clove of garlic. I tell ya, it’s cheese heaven.
Anyway, while I shopped, I found much more I wanted to buy. As usual. To look in my cupboards you’d think I’m housing 4 people here. Hey, I stock up. I’m a stocker. But the thing is, while I roamed the isles, I noticed how crowded the store was for a Wednesday afternoon.
I’ve been coming to this United Market since I was a kid. My mom brought my sister and me with her each week. Vicki and I sat in the cart eating Flicks milk chocolate discs. They were our reward for being tolerable while Mom shopped. Sometimes, when we were exceptionally good, we got Necco Wafers. I don’t recall having the opportunity to enjoy those very often.
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 between the front seats 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
It wasn’t long ago that I recognized something about myself: I have no lips. That’s right, I’m lip-less. One would think I’d have noticed this a few years ago, but no. Apparently I don’t look in the mirror enough. In fact, I peek as little as possible.
See what I mean?
That’s not to say I look hideous. I wouldn’t go THAT far. But when I do stop to look closely at myself, it’s sorta scary. Seems the older I get, the more my lips disappear, along with other pertinent stuff. Bette Davis had it right when she said, “Old age ain’t no place for sissies.”
You tell ’em Bette
It’s official; I’m old. But that’s only according to AARP.
For those of you with no clue what AARP means, you’re obviously not one of “us.” You don’t yet have a bathroom drawer loaded with hair coloring and you’re able, or more importantly, willing, to look into a magnifying mirror without wanting to lose your lunch. So if you’re in that group, AARP means American Association of Retired Persons.I’m now an official card carrying member of this club, one I never particularly yearned to be part of. But since hitting the big 6-0 Friday, I’m closing in on being at peace with what put me in this prestigious group; things like gray hair, wrinkles and occasional aches and pains.
The most important criteria for membership in AARP is simple: live long enough and they beg you to join. No tests are taken. You also don’t need a sponsor vouching that you aren’t a lunatic who will eat all the chocolate chip cookies at the meetings. Do they have meetings? I guess I’ll find out. If so, they better have cookies. Continue reading
As one approaches the Big 6-0, one learns that aging has good, bad and ugly moments. For instance, you wake up one morning needing glasses. It happens just like that. Your hair changes color, and not in a good way. Bones soften, skin wrinkles. Some of us get shorter, if that’s even possible with me.
Now don’t get me wrong; I’d much rather wither with age like a dried fig than the alternative of being 6 feet under or in my case, scattered to the wind. That comes soon enough. Just remember, with the not-go-grand aspects of aging there are accompanying benefits – like people helping you lift heavy stuff into your car; not noticing dust balls in the corners of your living room because you can’t see them without glasses. And then there’s the adage, With Age Comes Wisdom. I’m still waiting for that to happen.