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.
Fun Fact Friday! On this day in 1972, daredevil Evel Knievel broke 93 bones after successfully jumping 35 cars *Shock*. What would you say has been your biggest success that also came with a great personal cost? I cannot fathom earning a living in this manner! I suspect he not only risked his neck to jump several cars, but he achieved a world record in the most human bones fractured in the pursuit of that feat. Where was Evel's mother when he decided to tempt fate? Did he try all manner of crazy things at home as a fearless child? Were his first stunts accomplished on his bicycle? Was it an oh well boys will be boys mentality? Did she just stop opposing him, and instead purchase a top of the line helmet? The bandages and first aid supplies must have been ferried home by the truckload.My autistic cousin Paulie worshipped "Ebel Kniebel". Our Nan created a white jumpsuit complete with a long, flowing red cape for him to wear as he imitated his hero. Luckily, Paulie never had the inexplicable urge to jump his pretend motorbike over anything higher than a curb. Once in a while, he did fling himself from the back of a sofa though. So, to answer the blog question, I dunno. I certainly have never felt a hankering to commit death-defying stunts like Mr. Evel. Does ascending and descending a set of stairs count as a dangerous feat? I attempt this everyday with varying success. My knees are leery of the steps, and more times than not they balk, and stumble. It's as if they perceive those stairs as an insurmountable hazard worthy of caution and distrust. With each passage, I sacrifice peace of mind, and smooth sailing. To physically leave my home, I must bypass nineteen steps to reach the street level. My accident(s) survivor , surgery scarred, and arthritic knees moan, groan, and protest the only way they know, with excruciating pain. I force them to carry me out and about. All I ask is that they get me from Point A to Point B. No running is expected, a sedate limp is effort enough. So, on most days, my greatest success is returning home free of a new injury. I don't have a catchy name like Evel, but then I'm not attempting to break any records, (or more bones).
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