REACHING GOALS

I still have a few months to go before I reach 70. I'm healthier than I was on my last birthday, and I am a few sizes smaller than I was then, too. I walk, exercise and do tai chi daily now. I even do a little jogging! (No one is more surprised about that, than me.) I wear sneakers most of the time now. ME. The one who hated sneakers. A friend told me if I keep at it, he's going to enter me into the Senior Olympics. I'm now weighing what I weighed in 2003 before I started packing on the pounds. That was back in the day when I lit up a cigarette, rather than eat a cookie. Now I am nicotine and sugar free.

There is no drama in my life. I don't do drama well, and if I don't do something well, I have learned to leave it to someone else. We can't all be good at everything. There is also no romance in my life. I failed miserably at that. I've always preferred simple friendship, so I've given myself that gift. At my age men are mostly interested in gaining a mother or a nurse. I did both things in the past. I'm retired now.

I go to bed between 7:00PM and 8:00PM each evening and I get up at 3:00AM. That works really well for me. I have breakfast at 4:00AM, lunch at 9:00AM and dinner around 2:00PM. That works really well for me. The advantages to living alone are too numerous to count.

Most days I go out at 9:30 and return home at noontime. It does me a world of good to get out among people of all ages, for I live in senior housing. I don't want my world to be made up entirely of retired people. I live where I do because it's very affordable, not out of any need to isolate myself from younger people.

When I first moved to New Jersey, all I brought with me was a new computer, my sewing machine and patterns and fishing gear. I had a plan. Knowing that plans don't always work out as I hope, I made plenty of allowances for error. It's only taken 16 years to get to the point that I am making doll clothes once again. I've worn out computers in that time, and written all I could ever want to write. I've only fished once, but this coming spring my license will be free, for in New Jersey you pay no fee once you hit 70. There are places to fish within walking distance of where I live. I simply needed to get into shape in order to want to take those walks. I'm there now.

I don't own a television. I considered getting one this year, and have decided to wait until I am 80. There are simply too many things I want to do that require my attention. Paying to sit and watch commercials still isn't one of those things I choose to do.

I don't own a smart phone. I like making eye contact with people and don't feel any need to have conversations and other experiences interrupted by me having to check a tiny computer screen. I do have a cell phone, but use it for making appointments and checking on rides. Now that there are no longer any pay phones in public, it's handy to have on hand.

I do own more than one laptop computer. I love being able to access the Internet. I am fascinated by the fact that I can take college courses for free! I may retake an art history course I took a couple of years ago. I enjoyed it that much. I use my computer as a word processor more than anything else, though. To me it's a portable typewriter that fits well in a large purse. I don't need access to the Internet to enjoy it.

Have I mentioned I no longer have wifi in my home? I tried going without it and find it's entirely possible. I read more books now. I get out and visit with people more often. There is wifi access at my library and I love any reason to go there!

When you are not quite seventy you have the advantage of being young enough to do anything at all, yet old enough to be as discerning as you want! I only do what works well for me now! It assures that I smile more than anyone I know.

UNDER THE ASIAN INFLUENCE

I have a neighbor named Min. Min is Chinese and does not speak English. I am American and don't speak Chinese, but under Min's tutelage I am having a Karate Kid experience. Min in my coach/teacher. I walk each morning, then do a round of exercises that she leads, then take a Tai Chi lesson. When Min smiles I become a happy child. It's a good thing because there's a real nip in the air at 7:00 AM and we do everything outside.

As a child, I had the common sense of a flea, and have never liked hats and gloves, but as I mimic Min I wear a skull cap and gloves when I work out. I'm not into suffering needlessly. The exercise reveals all sorts of things my aging body has difficulty doing. The cold brings my arthritic joints to life. Muscles that had not been used often sing out for attention. I can't stop that, but I can wear a hat and gloves!

Min executes everything gracefully. When I compare to her, I am one of the Keystone Cops, so I dare not compare to her. I laugh too much when I do! As I compare myself to myself, I can see slight progress. It has to do. Min doesn't appear to mind that I am learning so slowly. I think she's pleased that I want to learn.

One day Min asked (through an interpreter) how old I am, and when I told her I was 69 she laughed! To her I am young. That makes me wonder how old she is, but I don't dare to ask. As she stands on one leg with her hands clasped behind her back liftening and shaking a foot for an extended time, and I mimic, step on the ground, try again, and step on the ground, I marvel at her sense of balance. Min has destroyed any concept I held of a little old lady. She's taller than the other Chinese women and could lead a class of young women and give them a true work out.

When East meets West, West benefits.   

AGING WITH GRACE

As I bump into things with my shopping cart at the grocery store, I turn to people around me and say, “Grace is my middle name.” I can remember as a girl when boys would line up to dance with me during dance contests because I was always one of the winners. I did fine as long as the music was playing. Once it stopped I tripped over my own feet on my way to sit down. As I age, I am reminded of the old Mary Tyler Moore TV series where Dick Van Dyke would trip over a hassock on a regular basis. Prat falls are within my expertise. They aren't intentional. Once or twice a year I find the irregularity in pavement and am down for the count, usually landing on my nose. If life had a theme song, mine would be a chorus: “She flies through the air with the greatest of ease”. Just last weekend I gained a fat lip from an encounter with a curb as I crossed a street. Since I was in downtown Princeton at the time, I walked to a local ice cream shop and got a chocolate sugar cone. Apply cold to swelling,,,right? Ice cream therapy eases such things, and also helps to compensate for the embarrassment of having a small crowd form around me as I was lying by the curb.

I'm dodging cataract surgery. As the light dims in my little world, I look better to myself in the mirror. For that matter, everyone looks better. I don't see little flaws as easily. The only problem with that is I don't see clearly enough to know when I need to clean out the refrigerator, or when there are spots on the bathroom tile from washing my hair after I color it. I have solved that problem now. A housekeeper comes in once a week! I know! I know! Eventually I will have to have the surgery, but at least when I do, I will see a sweetly spotless home. As lovely Rachel pulled apart my refrigerator yesterday and scrubbed it, I marveled that she bends and twists so easily. I couldn't make those moves even if my eyes worked properly.

Since I signed up for housekeeping, I thought I might as well go the whole route so I signed up for a noontime meal in the dining room where I live in senior housing. I get to go out to eat without going out! Rachel's husband Abby is the server. He's as warm and caring as Rachel is. I feel like a well loved mother with loving adult children. When we surround ourselves with caring adults, growing old feels like being five years old. We can do all sorts of things and can learn anything, but we don't have provide for ourselves or do the chores other than washing a few dishes or taking out the trash. All that is required of me is to swallow my pride and say “Please!” and “Thank you!”

The grace that comes with aging, is in those people around me who care enough to lift me up from the curb, clean my home and serve me dinner. I just have to show up. Put on some music, and move the hassock. I can do this thing!

THE PAUSE THAT REFRESHES

I went to the doctor yesterday, and now I have to make an appointment with a heart specialist. NOT QUITE SEVENTY takes on a whole new meaning. As a sober alcoholic of nearly forty years, I have already acquired the habit of living one day at a time. I am reminded now of my early sobriety when each day seemed especially precious. I was only thirty then. I found out I was pregnant and had cancer and my husband left me...all in my first few weeks. Life was stressful to say the least. I was young. I was determined. I learned to trust God.

So here I sit, curious about what the future might hold, or even how long the future might be, but other than conquering nervousness about dealing with doctors, I can't think of any stress in my life at all! I have commented often that my life has gotten so enjoyable that I must be going to die soon. My sense of humor keeps kicking in. Laughing at myself is one of my favorite pass times.

When I was younger, I took life too seriously. I learned to let go and laugh and decided about twenty years ago that I was here just for the fun of it all now.

I colored my hair in June. Initially I looked like Ronald  MacDonald's grandmother, which is what happens when you add auburn coloring to white hair. I added more brown to the coloring the next time I colored it and I look slightly better now. People have told me I look years younger. I have wanted to ask, "Just how old did I look before?"

In July I began power walking for twenty minutes each morning. I felt like Rocky Balboa as I returned home and hopped into the shower. My blood pressure dropped below 120/80 and I was delighted. Yesterday the Physician's Assistant told me not to power walk. She said I can take a stroll, but not to force anything. (That's no fun!) A friend suggested that I listen to music or a recorded book as I take my walks.  I can do that. I'm a bit of a space shot, though. I can picture myself getting all caught up in a book and tripping over my own feet.

Many years ago a spiritual adviser asked me if I was willing to fail at everything I attempted. It was a startling question. I've thought of it often, as I watched relationships and activities that I poured my energy into go up in smoke.  Being willing to lose, to chalk up my losses and carry on has given me a very full life. Now that there is less time ahead of me than there is behind me, I ask myself if there is anything I really want to do.

I'd like to have a vacation that includes time walking on a beach.  I could stroll easily there.

Slow Me Down Lord

Slow me down Lord
Ease the pounding of my heart
by the quieting of my mind.

Steady my hurried pace
with a vision of the eternal march of time.
Give me amid the confusion of the day,
the calmness of the eternal hills.

Break the tension of my nerves and muscles
with the soothing music of the singing streams
that live in my memory.

Help me to know the magical restoring power of sleep.

Teach me the art of taking MINUTE vacations,
Of slowing down to look at a flower,
to chat with a friend,
to pat a dog,
to read a few lines of a good book.

Slow me down Lord
and inspire me to send my roots
deep into the soil of life's enduring values
that I may grow toward the stars of my greater destiny.

 Author: Wilfred A. Peterson

CHOCOLATE CHUCKLE CAKE

I baked a cake yesterday. I allowed it to bake an extra five minutes and it still fell in the middle. I covered one piece in canned raspberry pie filling, and later had a piece with fresh strawberries. Both were delicious, but more like having a moist brownie with fruit than a piece of cake. Another case of "making due" that may not have looked incredible, but tasted just fine.  I identified with my cake.
There are those who would refer to me as "half baked".

Will I make this cake again? Sure I will. I will simply set the oven higher than 350 degrees. I'm one of those "try, try again" people. I'll get it right eventually.  I'm not in life to impress anyone. I'm here for the fun of it all. I have more fun sharing my "failures" than my successes now. When I succeed I just grin and carry on. It's when I fail that I run to find someone so I can share a chuckle.

Campaign Apocalypse

I've just spent a few months following politics online. I have learned a lot of things that I really wish I didn't know. It seemed important, though, to read and explore and gain a better understanding of what is going on in government. Having done that to my satisfaction, I now hope to retire from that effort and restore an order of joy in my life.

I am a creative. I'm a writer, an artist, a poet, a crafts person. I noticed that the more I studied what was going on in the world around me, especially in my own country, the less I created. My sense of hope and enthusiasm began to dry up. I'm not sorry I made the efforts that I did. I felt a responsibility to make an informed decision before casting my vote this fall. I've done that. It's time to play once again. The only way to achieve a happy ending is to practice before it arrives.

GROWING OLD---A DAY AT A TIME

It's birthday week
The child within me claps to celebrate
Foolish old woman that I am
I'll be 69 this week
If I don't get hit by a truck before Saturday

I look in the mirror and laugh
As the question, "How did this happen?"
Comes to my mind
How many thousands of people
Have had the same experience
The stages of life are lessons in humility
For us all

My poor old laptop computer
Acted so badly
I thought I'd have to buy a new one
But a technician told me to upgrade to Window's 10
I'm doing that now
Perhaps that's how I'll view my birthday this year
I will upgrade to Beth 69

THE SHRINKING WOMAN

I'm on my way down to large. I figure if I want to be a happy little old lady, the key word is little! I'm already happy, and getting older. I'm not dieting. Diets only work for a little while and then I gain back any weight I have lost. At present my face, arms and legs look fine. I simply have the shape of a pregnant woman. I suppose that is one step up from a sumo wrestler. When I was a young woman I used to call myself a broom stick with door knobs. I had no hips.  Then I had my daughter and gained an hourglass shape. I have come full circle now. I am a pear.

I am now five pounds lighter than I was when I turned 65. I'm due to be 69 next week.  I figure if I can continue to lose 5 pounds every four years, in another 24 years I will be at a weight I can really enjoy...but then I will be 93. It makes more sense to simply celebrate my new clothing size and get on with enjoying life.

A MATTER OF VALUE

I belong to a site online that sends a daily challenge to members each day. Today's challenge was to wear an outfit that instills confidence some time in the next week. I saw that as backward to my way of thinking.

 A woman from my medical insurance company called me and asked me to do a survey yesterday. She listed off things my primary care physician will want done when I make an appointment. I have no desire for most of the procedures, so I told her that for as long as my body is still my own, I will be saying no to most of the requests. My reply to a colonoscopy is, "You want to put that where?" No way. I also refuse to have my breasts ironed. I had that done once and promised myself to never do that again. Well, you get the idea. I am 68. I'm already five years older than my brother was when he died. I feel fine. We all have to die of something. How I live is far more important to me than how I die or when I die. Having someone call to try to frighten me into taking tests I don't want, isn't my idea of a healthy experience.

I helped the woman to laugh before she hung up. It's what I do. I was dressed in only a house dress and I had my dentures out at the time of the call, but I was not lacking in confidence. My personal value or ability isn't dependent on anything outside myself...other than God. It is I who give value to my clothes (and all other possessions) not they that add value to me.

TRUTH IN ADVERTISING

LIBRARY DAY

Each Wednesday a bus comes to where I live and takes me to Princeton Public Library, picking me up four hours later. Library day in the middle of the week is my Aruba. (Only another dedicated nerd will truly understand that.)  Consider this: when I was a child and decided to run away from home, I went to the library. (I've always been book smart, but not world wise.) 

I could write a post about Princeton Public Library and the wonderful services and events they have, but this blog is about being not quite seventy. As I was standing outside the library today waiting for the bus to pick me up, it dawned on me that I live everyday now as if it was my last. There are a few things about me that haven't changed since I was a child. I got my first library card before I could read. All that was required was for me to print my name on a card. I could do that. When I came home from walking with my brother to the library, I handed my mother a book and asked her to read it to me. I remember the book: BaBar the Elephant. 

My library card was my first credit card. Today it is my only credit card. (I paid off all cards in 1978 and decided to live a cash and carry life.) 

Library day insures that I will continue to read physical bound books. Each week I find a book that interests me and I go to one of the very comfortable chairs and snuggle in. Today I choose a psychological thriller THE CELLAR by Minette Walters. Since the book was only 175 pages, I finished reading it today. If I hadn't observed my weekly library day, I'm sure I wouldn't have read a book. 

I read a book today.  I read a lot online daily, but there is something really special about being able to say I read a book today. It means I unplugged and spent quiet time in a world of imagination. Me. All by myself. I'm a big girl now. I can go to the library all by myself and I can read all of the words in any of the (English) books on the shelves. 

My library has machines that will scan my library card and the books I want to borrow, so that I can now check myself out. A pre-school boy was standing in front of one of the machines, so I handed him my library card, and showed him what to do.  It was the first time he checked out any books, but his mother saw what we were doing and smiled. I'm sure she will let him do so the next time they visit the library.

OK. I don't just read books when I go to the library. I borrow grandchildren, too.

NONE OF MY BUSINESS

I live in New Jersey. Today the windows of my apartment rattled a lot several times. Later I saw a post on facebook about a sonic boom that had created the vibrations. Still later I read an article that said no agency is reporting any flight that would have created such a thing. I just watched a new episode of the X Files. The writer in me wants to use today's experience to write an episode of my own. The comedienne in me will wait to see how the Republican Party blames Obama for this.

We just had a blizzard here last weekend. I listened as some people panicked. I imagine there have been plenty of people panicking about the strong vibrations that occurred today. I don't panic about such things. I ask if there is anything I can do about them. If there isn't, I observe and appreciate another day of life.

I can worry if I want and develop a case of impending doom. I can have hope if I want and go with impending joy. I'm a joy lover. My decision was made years ago.  We all have a fear of the unknown to some degree. I don't expect to live without fear. I do expect to face it as it arrives and then to go play. Thus far I am doing well at meeting my expectations.

WHAT'S THE RUSH?

I was retired for three years before I genuinely learned to relax. I stayed busy doing creative things and helping others, so my time wasn't wasted, but I kept feeling as if something was missing. Then I got sick. It took a full month for me to recover. In that time I reappraised my life. Being sick forced me to slow down to a stand still for a bit. As I recovered, I didn't push myself to do anything. Once I was fully recovered I began saying no more often and guarded that special private time that was all mine. Now, two months later, I am at times overwhelmed by a strong sense of well being. Any complaints I have are so trivial that I wind up laughing when I voice them.

I am the most fortunate woman I know! There is no one in my life who has any authority to criticize me or what I do with my time. When I begin to criticize myself, I stop. Yup. I just stop. If I want to sit and do nothing but play games on the computer and "chill out" all day long, that's just fine. Being sick didn't cause me to awaken to any great deed I want to do. It caused me to see how much I had already done, appreciate my efforts, and offer myself a vacation for the rest of my life.

There's no hurry for anything at all. I'm not running for office. I'm not seeking any kind of promotion. My sense of well being isn't dependent upon anything. I simply feel well. It is enough. I'm enjoying it.

A WINTER LAND ADVENTURE

"Ah, yes. I remember it well...the Blizzard of '16."  Oh. Wait a minute. The blizzard is ongoing.  I don't have to remember anything. All I have to do is to look out the window. It's pretty amazing; isn't it?  Yesterday at this time, there was no snow on the ground. 

I lead such a simple life that my day today was like any other. I did some laundry. I wrote letters to friends. I took some pictures. The blizzard has added some variety. I had fun taking pictures as the accumulations grew. It's still growing. The forecast says it will snow overnight and won't stop until late tomorrow. I remember a blizzard in '77 and '96.  During the first one I was pregnant and had a seven-year-old daughter. We were trapped in the house for three days. During the second one I was caring for my elderly mother, who was in a wheelchair. I was only trapped for two days that time. This time, I am the little old lady and someone else is in charge of snow removal and seeing to it that I am safe.

If you live long enough snow storms are as much fun as they were when you were a child! It's my plan to build a snowman on Monday, once the snow has stopped.  Why not? 

CHANGLING

My mother told me no one changes after 30. Because of that I panicked and took a hard look at my own life when I reached that age. It helped me to change the direction of my life. By the time I was 45 and she was 78, I was taking care of my mother who had had two strokes. I taught her that anyone can change at any time, and went to work convincing her. She lived another eight years and blossomed as never before. She was a joy to behold. We laughed often.

Here I sit now at not quite seventy, waking up each day as a new person. That sounds poetic. In actuality, it's at best awkward. By noontime I have settled into my new identity, and respond accordingly, often surprising myself, but early mornings have me sitting writing and exploring my changing perspective of life. Intellectually, it makes sense. In order for one to age with wisdom, old thinking has to change. Emotionally it's  "What the heck is going on! I am losing my identity again!"

Instead of finding my shoes in the refrigerator, as happens with some of us as we age, I see more order in my life. I continue to question myself about what I am interested in, and adjust to new interests. Walking what I talk is important. It's also important for me to keep my shoes where it's warm. I hate cold feet!

ANY TAKERS?

I spend a lot of time alone. Sometimes days go by when I don't see another person.  I don't have a problem with that.  I lack tolerance, especially for controlling and manipulative people. Life is more peaceful when I mind my own business and keep to myself. The thing that is lacking though, is a buddy system. I love sharing, especially in creative endeavors. Sharing requires compromise and allowing room for someone else's point of view. (That's what expands the creativity!) My ad would read: "In search of an upbeat creative partner of either sex to share in mind opening and bending experiences."  Creativity is that stuff that brings things into the present moment that were hitherto unknown, so it pays to have a partner to hold onto our ankles while we reach as far as we can into that place beyond the known,  

THIS IS THE FUTURE I DREAMED ABOUT

In my youth and early twenties I was fascinated by science fiction.  I even wrote some science fiction stories. As the years passed and I saw reality reflect what I had written as fiction. I worried that I might be some kind of freak. It took a long time for me to accept that whatever man(kind) can imagine can be created. The imagination is simply a place where dreams are weighed before we decide whether or not to bring them into every day reality.

With some years behind me now, in which I spent a lot of time observing other people, it's pretty easy to sit back and see parts of the future. When I do think of the future, I think of those who are forty and younger, and yet to be born. I ask myself what I can add to life to aid their survival and growth.

I think the best I can do right now is to remain open and keep writing. My greatest gift is helping others to see and use their gifts. I'll just keep showing you mine and hope you will show me yours.

NO WHERE NEAR DONE YET

After making a post about calling in dead, I got sick! I'm not writing this from the Great Beyond. Obviously I am feeling better today.  All I did for several days was drink iced water and sleep. It's a great weight loss program.

I just checked my email and one of the spam letters was about burial insurance. They found me! I get junk mail in my snail mail that would depress anyone. Hearing aids, nursing homes, funeral expenses, daily reminders that I am over the hill. I just got my Silver Sneakers membership card. That, at least, allows for the fact that I might want to still be active and healthy.

I don't have the same amount of nervous energy I used to have when I was younger. I'm no longer nervous. I'm not chasing a two-year-old or meeting a work deadline. I don't have a boss I need to please. I have just the right amount of energy to enjoy the things I like to do.

Lately people have been asking me to watch their children for them while they work. They see me as a loving and nurturing person. I am that, but at present I am busy loving and nurturing myself and my house plants.  Life isn't the way I thought it would be, so I have made adjustments to insure that I will feel well loved before I die. Very often that is a do-it-yourself proposition,

I just nursed myself back to health. As soon as the rest of my energy returns I will look for something new to learn. The quest continues.

PAIN PAIN GO AWAY; COME AGAIN SOME OTHER DAY

I have Fibromyalgia,  Actually I usually refer to it as FMS (Fibromyalgia Syndrome). I was diagnosed twenty-eight years ago when a doctor referred to it as fibromyositis. It hadn't even gotten it's present name yet.   The only place it was listed was in medical journals. Now it's all over the Internet. Basically it means my body often reacts as if it's 90 years old. Pain, stiffness and lack of energy are only three of the symptoms.  I lived with it for ten years before I was diagnosed, so it's been a part of my life for over half of my lifetime. Since I was told it was chronic and progressive, I took some time to sort out how I wanted to deal with it. I do not take mind or mood altering chemicals. I do take ibuprofen for pain. I decided I was going to relate as a well person who had occasional flare ups.  That some of those occasions lasted for weeks or were very frequent didn't matter to me. I refused to be my disorder.

Here I am at the infancy of old age, and I still refuse to take anything but ibuprofen, and I only take that a few times a month. That's right...month...not day. I was convinced that I could get past the worst of what this disorder would hand out, and I did.  I love it when one of my experiments works! 

THANK YOU FOR LISTENING

I've never been good at small talk, mostly because I don't understand it. Even when I speak of the weather, it's because I have a genuine interest in it. Making noise just to make noise has never made sense to me. I don't really expect others to be interested in what I am thinking, so I usually just listen to them, unless I have something funny to share, or a situation I need help with. Lots of times the two wind up being the same thing. I mess up and wind up laughing and asking someone for help.

I was told once that listening is an act of love. That made sense to me, so I listen a lot. A lot of the people I know, don't really listen. They are too busy thinking of what they want to say next. Conversation with them reminds me of a game of chess. Chess can be stimulating, but it's a competition. When I talk with people, I have no desire to compete. I want to share.

One of the reasons I love to write is I can put my thoughts into words without intruding upon anyone else's thoughts. People can read what I write at their convenience...which brings me back to the title of this post. Thank you for listening!

GOOD DREAMS COME TRUE

When I was girl a I had pen pals. I dreamed of being a ham radio operator and of developing my own pictures.  Fast forward fifty years and here I am with a laptop computer and a digital camera. I have all I wanted because of the Internet.

I have two sisters in Canada. I have not physically met either one, but I would trust either one with my life.

There's a man in India I met while he was a student. Now he has his doctorates' degree and he teaches students.  He's a dedicated and hard working man, but we took the time to play like children once we met. I loved finding ways to make him laugh.

In response to 9/11, I created a site called Joy Lovers at msn.com.  The site no longer exists, but I am still in touch with one of the original members who lives in Australia.  We held a surprise international baby shower for her when she was carrying her son.  Members all made and bought gifts and mailed them to a neighbor of hers. We all gathered online as she was opening her gifts.

I created another site called Woodlynx where I gathered links to free wood working projects. Members gathered weekly for a woodworking chat. I still receive regular email from one man (and his wife).

Virtual reality has allowed me to do things that I had hitherto only dreamed of doing. One of my desires was to be published. I had things I wanted to say to the world at large and stories I wanted to tell, especially to children. I didn't care about being paid for what I wrote. I cared that someone would take the time to read it.  Google Beth NoLastName.  Things I have written are right there for you to read, as is this blog.  THIS is published as soon as I click on the button.

THE SIMPLE LIFE

All of the women I am closest to have partners.  I don't. It doesn't look like that will be occurring in the future either. I was thinking about that this morning when I came across this post on facebook:

Just call me Aunt Bea.

PUT ON A HAPPY FACE

Those of us who choose to mind our own business and seek out the bright side of life are in the minority.  Most people, from what I have experienced thus far, are seeking a place of importance which entails someone else looking up to them.  If that doesn't work then they look for importance through complaining about their lot in life. Pride and pity abound.  Those of us who accept we aren't all that important, that the world was here before we existed and will be here after we are gone, tend to go cheerfully through life looking for something good to do. 

I like being happy. I make efforts in that direction daily. I strive to avoid people who act as wet blankets. I've never been fond of playing "top this" about achievements or ailments. I've had my share of both, as we all have. I applaud the efforts of those around me. It's fun to cheer others on. I laugh at myself often. I am a funny lady. Whenever I think I have grown expert at something, I trip over my own ego. 

One of the secrets of aging with good humor is that somewhere along the line I stopped calling myself stupid when I made a mistake. I began saying, "Oops" and chuckling as I would if I was watching a young child. I became my own loving parent. I was too busy being patient with myself to be impatient with others. 

I live among a bunch of grouchy old people, but every once in a while I do something silly and some of them smile. In that time we are bonded for a moment. I marvel at the beauty I see in their faces when they smile. 

IT'S ALL NEW TO ME!

I stopped watching television in the 1980's. Now I have Netflix on my computer. I get to watch entire series with no commercials interrupting my viewing!  I just finished watching episode 12 of season 4 of White Collar. 

When I stopped watching television, I felt no sense of loss at all. I had never enjoyed the jarring sensation of being interrupted by commercial messages every few moments, nor did I like feeling as if I were a prisoner who dared not leave the room while a show was on. (With Netflix, I just pause whatever I am watching whenever I want to.)

People often questioned me and scolded me, telling me I was missing out on good things. I replied that there would be plenty of time for me to watch TV when I grew old.  So here I am viewing shows I enjoy and playing catch up, on my terms, and at far less an expense as my neighbors. Netflix is only $7.99 a month and I view it on my computer. I STILL don't pay for cable TV.

SOCK IT TO ME

It was finally cold enough where I live to wear a pair of hand knitted socks that a friend made for me. Other than the socks, I dressed entirely in black, so they would stand out. Because I wear ballet flats all year round, I felt a bit like a ballerina.

But then it struck that I probably looked more like Oz's Wicked Witch of the West!

In any case, I was a child at play.  One of the best parts of being just old enough to be seen as nearly everyone's grandmother is I get to call the shots! 

THE OLD FOLKS' HOME

When I was a grade school student, I used to visit my town's old folks' home and sing for the people there. Years later I joined a gospel group that performed regularly in nursing homes. In time I worked in a nursing home and went from that to caring for my parents and others who lived in the neighborhood.  I have come full cycle. Now old folks' homes are called Senior Housing. I arrived here at 65 and was immediately nicknamed "the kid". Many other residents were in their 80's. Now that I am not quite seventy, some of those people have passed on and younger seniors have moved in. I am not the kid any longer. 

When children come here to sing and perform with their musical instruments, part of me wants to run screaming out the door, "No! No! It's not my time yet!" Instead I smile at their efforts, just as seniors before me smiled at mine. The people here in their 80's love this stuff. Me? I want to grab a microphone and do stand up comedy or get someone who plays the guitar to join us so we can sing some rock songs. I keep mentioning that it would be fun to have a dance, but people here just laugh.

Growing old isn't supposed to mean "grow depressed". While I can enjoy memories from the past, I don't long for the "good old days" nor do I have any desire to be any younger.  I love the idea that now there are moments I actually have a clue! 

Remember grade school when you used to look out the window and wait for recess? That's where I am now. I'm free to play all day long. I do what I can to convince others to join me, but rather than sit and mutter about life as so many do, I just wander off and have fun.

It's my turn.

JUICY TALES

I just returned from grocery shopping. As I put the "Club Size" prune juice in my cart I renamed it "Senior Size". When I was taking care of my mother, I used to serve her morning prune juice in a long stemmed glass, but no matter how you dress up a morning laxative, it is what it is. 

A bus arrives where I live every Monday morning and takes whomever cares to go, to a grocery store. The only problem I have had with that is we are given an hour and sometimes, like today, an hour and a half to shop. As others mumble about not having enough time, I pray for patience. Half an hour is all I ever need.  I brought a book with me this morning. I had seen a break area behind the deli.  I decided to shop, and then sit at a table and read. It worked just fine! It struck me though, that having someone see a white haired granny totally engrossed in this book might be a bit disconcerting.

THE FACTS OF LIFE

Back in the 1960's, when I was a teenager, we had health class in school. It was the dullest class imaginable. I have no memory, other than going to class and yawning at the book. As far as I remember I used it as a study hall. It was the closest thing we had to sex education, which is why I was not too bright about sex. I avoided the occasion because I knew I could get pregnant, and that wasn't on my immediate agenda. I grew up in New England (home of the Puritans) with a mother who had handed me a book when I was in grade school which explained how babies were conceived. "Read this."  To her credit, my mother was a dutiful person, she just didn't grasp the warm and cuddly part of life. I think her attitude about life and instruction was: "Here are the facts. Deal with them."

As I look back, I am totally impressed that I survived my own life. I kick back in my big red chair and marvel daily at the sanity (or appearance thereof) in my life. Entering puberty was like taking a trip into the Everglades with only hip boots for protection.  Was that a log, an alligator, or a crocodile? Was that a vine or a snake?  I have always been nearsighted. Discernment only came through trial and error...mostly error.

Yet here I am. Just when I got to the point where I was able to feel good about myself and my ability to make better decisions, my body started to act as strangely as it had when I hit puberty...only now I am in puberty in reverse...and no one has given me an instruction manual for this! I figure I will record my experience and leave it here on the Internet for someone to come across when when it's her turn (or his turn to understand what's happening to her).

Feet firmly planted in mid air, I carry on.

FROM WHERE I SIT

  

I stopped coloring my hair when I was 63. Having white hair is really cool. It goes with every color. I used to be a red head and had to avoid red, purple and pink in my clothing. Now all colors are mine!

This is what I see directly across from me. That's where I used to sit before I got my BIG RED CHAIR.  I've accepted there will always be baskets of things to do in my home. I'm a writer, quilter, painter, crafter....you get the idea. There's no difference in me now than when I was a child. I've simply had time to gain experience and learn how to do things well.

Although I do have guests for dinner at times, this table is used more often to display things I like. It held both a menorah and a creche in December.  

I love the wall tree. (I have a thing for trees!) It's made of latex pieces that will peel off . 

Yup. I am a creative. I tend to be introspective, so that corner is my "me only" spot. In my dreams I always had a greenhouse and an office/den/library. I bring my dreams into miniature reality here.

I don't see "old" when I look around the room. What I see is "single" and "happy".  There isn't enough time in one lifetime to do all I would like to do. What's nice is there is no rush. I'm happy with what I have accomplished thus far and I'm not quite seventy yet, so there's a good chance I'll have time to do a lot more!

430 DAYS AND COUNTING

It's day one of a new year...a good time to begin a project. As I look back over last year, I can see some major changes. I consider last year as the year I lost my breasts. In place of the round mounds that caused me to stand sideways in front of a mirror, I now have what appear to be two emptied marble sacks that I tuck into a much smaller-sized bra, turning them so they don't look all wrinkled on the top. I bend my arms and look at the chicken skin inside my elbows. Yup. Last year was a year of major change.

Not quite seventy is like being eleven. I wasn't a little kid any longer, but I wasn't yet a teenager. My chest was about as flat then as it is now, since everything has gone south. I was a marble champion on the playground at school, so I did carry a real marble sack. I've often said that menopause is puberty in reverse. It has proven true for me.

I don't think anyone wants to grow old, but when I consider the option, it's a good choice to make. If I am going to go through this thing, I'm taking someone with me. That's what blogs are for; right?