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.
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.
A washing machine is an accurate descriptive for how your body is pummeled with each wave as you're drawn down and then pushed up again. I've been a dozen times and if my shoulder wasn't like it is I would gladly go again. I'm like you very familiar with canoes and kayaks although my preference is a kayak on lakes. I used to take mine out with a small cooler bag with lunch inside and water. My other bag was a dry bag, it held my camera in addition to whatever book I was reading. If my brain was functioning I had sunscreen, depended on my coffee intake for sure. We must have been fish at one point in our life.
I agree with you about the aurora borealis, I don't dare blink. They're just so glorious in color and the way the air feels as you stand there awe struck. I'm equally glad these calories don't count, I feel like I've eaten enough for two people maybe three.
I've wondered the same thing when I read about all the discoveries documented and brought back by ship. Paper that didn't crumble or mold from all the temperature variances.
I'm not as comfortable storing things in the cloud myself, I have external hard drives that I transfer data too and then disconnect from my computer so it is hack proof. Not that I really have data anyone would want but it is personal to me.
But then I think about the close living quarters on a ship how did anyone have room for storage to bring back? Darwin was indeed lucky on the HMS Beagle.
Think back to a time when you felt completely calm. What made you feel that way?
There are a multitude of times when I felt the polar opposite of calm. Internally, I screamed and wailed. I struggled to focus. I swallowed the claustrophobic specter of my fear and helplessness. My mind raced with one scary scenario after another. For better or worse, I know what it feels like to have my heartrate accelerate within a second and my heart fling itself against my chest. I forced myself to breathe. I concentrated on the present, the tangible, and grasped it tightly. Over the years, my offspring have subjected me to one stress test after another. My son especially has survived more than his share of accidents. Bike accidents, car crashes, sporting mishaps, a dog mauling, a cat attack, flying falls from furniture, workplace incidents, and an afternoon trapped in an army tank form a scarred tapestry of our experiences. Not once did I ever feel calm. Not once could I afford to panic. Have I ever felt completely calm? Have I not always felt tension, friction and unrest? Sure, there's the calm before the storm, but it's a brief waiting period, a respite. My guard is on high alert. It does not know relaxation. What's that expression? I wait for the other shoe to drop. To outward appearances, I may seem calm. I'm not pacing. I'm not ranting and raving. I choose not to throw objects, lash out, or kick. I refrain from confrontation. I suppose I am in control. Well, in control of my reactions. Much of life is beyond my control. I'm wracking my brain. Since I embarked upon the pot-holed path of motherhood I've been on standby, alert and ready for whatever should happen. Calm? Cool? Collected? I am at my calmest when I am absorbed with reading a book. Time ceases to exist. Human concerns such as thirst and hunger become irrelevant. Background noise becomes muted. My location doesn't matter. I shall always be grateful that respiration is a natural reflex. Never do I command my eyes to blink. When I read I am immersed in the storyline. No one need ever command me to calm down. If someone wishes me to calm down they need only to hand me a book.
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