Beautiful Old Broads Ponder on OLD age

Hello Dear ones,

A favorite author of mine, Gail Caldwell has just published a new book that looks interesting.  It’s called “New Life,  No Instructions.”  The title prompted me to think about life and growing old and the challenges faced. We need a book titled  “Old Age, Instructions Included, Print Too Small.”

Darn.  That title won’t fly.  The publisher would shoot it down in a nanosecond for nobody is old today.  Old is an unfashionable word.   Things are gently used or pre-owned or vintage but they are definitely not old.

When you say you’re sixty, someone is sure to announce sixty is the new fifty and it follows that seventy is the new sixty and on and on.  So much for growing old.  Its plainly not au cou-rant.   The mid life crisis has been written about ad nauseam.  But Old.  No one wants to do OLD.

Picture a book on old being on the best sellers list.  As they say…you’re only as old as you feel.  Well, sorry but some days I feel old.  Some days are not “the best that’s yet to be”. Some days are filled with challenges.  Teeth decay, backs wear down, eyes dim.  Kids forget to call.  Email acts up….again.   And texting.  Well,  let’s not go there shall we?  Lets simply say that growing old is adapting constantly to this crazy ever changing world of ours.  Wish it would all slow down but that’s not going to happen.

So we get our teeth filled and new glasses and maybe do our hair one shade lighter and buy a snazzy red purse and move on.  Life doesn’t wait.  Beautiful old broads are a brave bunch of women.  After all haven’t we made it this far along life’s path?  Onward. 

That’s all well and good but I can’t get this new herbal liquid soap open.  I’ve twisted and yanked and pounded and pressed.  What…you say there are directions printed on the side of the bottle.   Oh I see them but the print is pixel sized.   Okay…okay…I’ll get my magnifying glass because the prints too small.  

Pondering on all this brings up one of my favorite and TRUE sayings

    THE LARGE PRINT GIVETH  and the small print taketh away

Beautiful Old Broads have patience

Beautiful Old Broads visit on Friday

Dear Ones,

This week I planned on posting a poem…however poems are like cats.  They don’t come when they’re called.  Yes, I have the nouns and the verbs and a few sizzling adjectives but somehow nothing is stringing together.  No poem. 

Count on it.  Tonight as I drift off to sleep, it will all come together.  A nuanced nifty poem perfect for my blog.  Of course, I’ll forget it by morning.  I do have a notebook by my bed but most of the time, I lack the oomph to rise up and write so I tell myself I’ll remember.  I won’t.  I can barely remember where my car is parked.  Saturday in Dallas at a large mall, I was clueless.  Where had I parked?  Thank God for the clicker.  I held it up and way down the line of cars, a trunk opened.  Hurray, I found my car. 

Back to poems.  They say poems reside in the heart.  I like that.  I’m never sure where mine start.  Mostly they roll around in my head till birth.  And like a new baby they come when they are ready.  No sooner.   

I am getting some verbal feedback on this blog.  Heard from Carol and also Laurie who liked the post about the favorite time in your day.  She also has a back porch swing.  Would love to hear from more of you.

This is the first time I’ve aired my thoughts on the web and I admit it’s a strange feeling.  Who’s reading this, I ask myself?  Maybe no one.  Maybe I’m just singing in the shower and nobody is listening.  Then I meet someone out and about and they tell me they liked the post about weddings or my poem about marriage. Or my friend Peggy emails me with a supportive comment.   Oh I’m in high cotton then.

 My target audience is you…all you beautiful old broads that are coping with life and trying to make sense of it.  Me too.  So I’ll keep on blogging.   Every Friday.

            “If the odds are good—chances are the goods are odd”        

   

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