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.
Didn't ICE find the illegal aliens who had secretly landed in our trailer parks and ICE shipped them to an El Salvadorian prison? I thought many of the trailer park inhabitants who resisted will be vacationing at the prison, er renamed Cultural Exchange Theme Park, soon?
When the toe heels it may be time for specially fitted shoes. Broken bones, no matter how small, can create or exacerbate other health issues as one ages.
A Warped Witch I Be Yes, I have family nearby. The lake is also across the road. Water is kinda important, eh? A spoonful of coffee grounds just isn't the same without it. Thanks for commiserating with me.
I'm so sorry to hear you're having such a terrible week. I've gone through the float valve thing at my old house in Maine, it felt like forever before they got it replaced. I bought gallons of water to keep my coffee supply steady. I refilled empty jugs for the toilet from the lake. We were lucky it happened in the summer because bathing was at the lake. I can't imagine doing it in the fall with the temperatures dropping. I never asked if your family lives nearby? Hopefully, you can take care of the essentials there.
Very nicely written. I am a big communicator and if more people would put forth a better effort, it would be a better place. Little acts of kindness truly goes a long way. You have identified it well. I can feel your sincerity coming through your writing. I would like to see more of the younger crowd helping or being involved with the older folks. I know my day goes better when someone has said hi or gives a waves.
I don't care for dark British/Dutch humor. Dislike Monty Python as well. Give me a bittersweet French or Japanese movie or a sad Portuguese song. I'm more introspective.
You were very fortunate. I never really fell into anyone's arms.
I need to reassess my needs. My 'romantic' efforts in Thailand had limited success.
November 28th Prompt: Write about something intangible: faith, magic, energy, power, or creativity. Just choose one topic and write about it. I have never claimed to be in cahoots with a muse. Nothing so intangible has whispered in my ear, nudged me, poked or prodded me, kicked me, swatted me over the head, or cajoled me. No angels have chosen to perch upon my shoulders vying for my undivided attention either. Creativity, my creativity is an idea, an idea that pops into my consciousness often unbidden. Sometimes, it's a flash, a spark of inspiration. It may be initiated by memories, or the cadence of words, or snippets of conversation, or observations, or the challenge of a random prompt. I like to attempt to capture a moment and preserve it. Of course with writing there are many variations , themes, and approaches. Playing with word combos is fun. Once in a while the evolving stories niggle at me and refuse to be ignored. I do not always heed them and choose to engage in more practical, necessary pursuits such as sleeping. Why do I believe I can escape the chain of descriptions, dialogue, and settings tumbling in my brain? They persist. They clamour. "Do we have an idea, or two for you. Is this a good time? Listen. We are just brimming." I toss. I turn. To shush them I stumble from my bed in search of a pen and a notebook. As I scribble I exorcise the insistent bits of rambling. With a sigh, I flick off the lamp, punch my pillow and will myself to relax. Too often, those impish ideas are not finished torturing me. The construct of time ceases to impress when I am immersed and bobbing along. Putting pen to paper does not necessarily mean writing. I enjoy doodling and sketching, too. The challenge is to merge lines into something, anything. Creativity is flexible and portable. It follows wherever I go.Now if it would just leave me in peace to sleep.
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.29 seconds at 8:49pm on Oct 27, 2025 via server WEBX1.
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
