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.
Do I admit to a 'hidden' character quirk? Would it be considered peculiar? Shall I confess all here in a WDC blog? Could that oddity be my penchant for answering a query with a question? Okay, enough of the stalling tactics. Okay, I admit I like to watch people. I don't consider myself a creepy stalker. No harm is intended. I've yet to disturb anyone, or cross the line into voyeurism. Nothing is criminal, but then again I haven't consulted a legal expert. I prefer the term keen observer for my proclivity. The beauty and simplicity of it is that it requires no special gear and can be executed anywhere. All I need is my eyesight and a comfortable spot to perch upon. I am never hidden, yet most of the time I blend into the background.Unobtrusive is my motto. Stare, watch,observe, but never ogle, or leer. Perhaps I should qualify my actions. Stare may be too strong a word and misconstrued. I glance. I notice. Maybe I study? I remember nothing creepy. The point is to see people in their natural habitats going about their business, not spook them into unpleasant retaliatory encounters. So many sites exist for my people-watching. In the hustle and bustle of an airport I sit with my head on a swivel only blinking when absolutely necessary. Airport denizens, crawlers, scrabblers fascinate me. All manner of nationalities and clothing parade past me. It seems almost exotic with the rainbow colours blurring and the different scents wafting through the air. I marvel at the heads regally supporting turbans and the figures swishing, gliding in flowing robes. I whince at the women teetering atop tap-tapping heels. I wonder about those rushing with a cell phone glued to their ears oblivious to their surroundings. I gape at a man sauntering in a torn, scruffy pair of jeans with his rear assets exposed to everyone. There's a thrum that never dims. Voices rise and fall. Snatches of conversation swirl and entangle. Footsteps pitter, patter, clomp, and stomp.Garbled intercom messages intrude with buzzing static. For real action in motion I often plunk my derriere on a beach. Not everyone passes their time broiling in the sun. It's entertaining to observe the grandmas' attempts to keep pace with their grandchildren.Without excusing their 'advanced' years, stubborn grammies gamely splash in the water, or thrash as needs must. They flail and teeter aboard paddle boards, or struggle valiantly to pull themselves into giant inflatables risking life and limb in the process. The many ways children choose to move their bodies amazes me. They skip. They hop. They shuffle. They stomp. They twirl. They tip-toe. Their boundless energy is effortless. On a sandy beach next to a sparkling lake kids radiate joy. They soak up the sun, roll in the dirt, and absorb water while screeching, whooping and shouting.It's a people-watcher's paradise. Quirk? Shmirk. I suppose I'm easily amused.( 485 words )
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