I do not know quite what happened or when , but my hubby and I now qualify for seniors' discounts at some venues. This creates a quandary; in order to save money, but not face, we have to admit to our age. HMMMM..... We definitely do not consider ourselves to be old. In this day and age ,when people as a whole are living longer and healthier lives why are 'young seniors', those in their fifties, like moi, considered 'old'?? It's so true that age is just a perception! "Maturity" is very objective/subjective, and I object! Whew, a few years have skittered by since I composed this biography block. Those "fifties" are in the rear view mirror and they are distant, fond memories. Oh, I do not plan to stop writing any time soon.
Happy 10th WDC Anniversary, SandraLynn Team Florent!! I'm sorry I can't battle alongside with you, dear Florent. Go forth and go well! You are doing excellent!
WWAD-what would Andre do! Maybe he could get a 3D-printer, make bracelets with WWAD on them and sell them on the side.
We get our dogs braided rope toys to chew on and use dental sticks to help clean their teeth. Perhaps Andre would enjoy a nice braided chew rope, and if someone would make a banana flavored dental stick, he could use it for a swizzle stick in his drink and chew on after he downs it.
My grandgiggles now ask if I'm wearing bubble wrap when I venture forth for a meander/walk/stroll. I thought a clumsy monkey could be conceivable and that he'd be told the same thing I am. Be careful. What is that? Accidents happen, to me any way.
QueenNormaJeanGreeneggs&vegham You win! I've never been shot at, well, not directly. I once experienced the back window of my car being shot out as I drove along a highway. I believe it was a hunter's errant bullet. I wrote about us accident prone people. I refer to it as O.U.C.H. I believe I intended that to mean Our Unique Clumsiness Hurts. We create our own writing material.
Oh come on - I've had so many weird accidents - last one I swear I tripped on a feather. Broke 2 bones in my hand, cast for 4 weeks and now I'm going to see the doctor tomorrow. Cannot move the blasted hand at all.
Car accidents, been shot at, blew my knee getting into a truck. falling down drunk and waking up looking like a prize fighter when I had to go to a family funeral. I've had a few good ones.
I'm the accident-prone one around these parts - although most people would guess my most-used word falls into the "swear" category, it's actually "ouch."
Years back I dated a lady who was extremely accident prone. On one occasion she caught her dress pocket on a door handle as we exited the theater. She ripped her dress open, buttons popping off all over. Another time I stopped to pick her up for a dinner date. As we were exiting her apartment, she remembered her purse and rushed back in to grab it. She slipped on the floor and slid into the table, chipping her front tooth. On yet another outing while viewing some antique mining equipment, she climbed up on a big dump truck for a picture. She decided to jump down, but had caught her shirt on something and ripped it off!
No one knows you can't afford food. You do not want your co-workers or neighbors to know. How do you manage? Do you go to a local food bank? Maybe visit a good friend(s) at the right time (Dinner time)? Do you somehow scrounge for leftover or unwanted food? So, I'm destitute? For some reason I cannot afford to buy food? I'm in danger of going hungry? What's happened? Why if this is true am I wasting time asking questions and not seeking the source of my next meal? I suppose I need to scavenge, but this is not the greatest time of year to realize I did not plant a garden. Already the frost has returned. Most veggie plots have likely been emptied and their goodies harvested. Perhaps I could offer to help an elderly farmer / gardener tidy up their holding in exchange for a few of the leftovers. I'd gratefully accept the wizened carrots, the spotted potatoes, the wrinkled onions, the teeny tiny turnips and the pale unpopular parsnips. Surely there must be some root veggies left to uncover. I might meander into a local orchard and volunteer to pick apples as trade for a personal basket. They keep fresh for a while. There'd be one huge benefit to eating raw. None of the nutrients would be cooked / leached from my 'pay.' I assume I'd have no baking ingredients to whip up a mouth-watering pie, or an apple crisp. Hmm, I believe it's pumpkin season at the moment and while I do enjoy its flavour I've never eaten one uncooked before. I'm salivating over memories of warm pumpkin pie. If I could roll one home, I'd add it to the veggies to create a vegan stew. If I really needed sustenance, I could approach a market vendor at end of day and ask for the remaining wares as feed for my fictional bunny. Nobody wants to see a pet starve. My sister once approached a grocer and asked for the spoiled lettuce and such for her living, breathing bunny. I'm hiding my need, right? As I understand it anyone is supposed to be able to access a foodbank without any questions. We also wear masks when inside a building, or in the company of others, so my identity could remain secret. I really am not a picky eater and I'd be most grateful for anything donated to my well-being. Would the number of people waiting in line surprise me? I could wrangle an invitation to supper at my sister's. We usually get lost in our chinwags and the food is secondary. If I'm lucky enough to be served one of her homemade soups, I'll be offered a mason jar full to take home with me. The brother-in-law doesn't like soups and Sherry cooks enough for an army. I've been invited to my niece's wedding. I'll chow down with the other guests at the reception. Hey, might I crash other weddings in search of a meal? With these plans / alternatives I'm not quite ready to try dumpster diving. The regular scroungers may not be too willing to share their spoils. They're a tough crew and I do not relish having my eyes scratched out. Bears and raccoons can be such animals.
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