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.
March 23rd PROMPT: What is the best way to spend a rainy afternoon? My first instinctive response would be to stay home and hunker down with a good book or two. Ignore the rain. You cannot prevent it anyway. Why would you want to be soaking wet? Stay dry and comfortable reclined on a couch, or that special piece of furniture, the recliner. Lose yourself in a developing plot line. Search for the bad guy / woman. Curse their nefarious actions. Scale soaring mountains, or race through crowded city streets. Applaud the heroic efforts of the good guy / woman. Savour the described scenery. Puzzle over cryptic clues. Bake something, anything. May I recommend cookies. They are a bit more labour-intensive and the reward is in indulging. Tea pairs well with them. I suppose my ideal rainy day could be described as nesting. Stay put and practise domesticity. I have not always followed my own advice. One time, hubby and moi, son and daughter-in-law, youngest daughter, plus two grand giggles visited a zoo during a summer rainstorm. Let me emphasize the rainfall. We did not experience a sprinkle, but a down pour. Some may have been inclined to say a deluge, or a monsoon. At any rate, we were soaked and squishy. Our flip-flops squeaked. My son admonished his daughters to stay out of the puddles. This proved impossible. Puddles lurked everywhere. Walking created splashes. Water dripped down our faces. Our clothing clung to us. We were beyond damp. We chose not to hurry our tour. We meandered. We oohed and awed. Surprisingly, we did not battle crowds as we strolled and stared. The zoo inhabitants seemed to revel in the rain. Birds spread their feathers as if showering, all while squawking, whistling, trilling, and singing. Lemurs swung through branches playing tag. Hippos wallowed in the mud. Big cats rolled in the fresh mud. Deer and bison stomped and stretched. Perhaps they enjoyed the water and viewed it as a respite from the humidity. Have I mentioned the sounds of rain? It plips, plops, drips, splorks, drums, pit-a-pats, plunks, , splats, and more. It's sad to say, but I believe I'm past my puddle-stomping days. Those glory days when the whole idea was to test the depth of a puddle with your boots no longer exist. No more squelching muck for me.
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