Getting Old Ain't All Bad

Thought for the day: Gratitude is an attitude.

Yesterday was Thanksgiving here in the U.S., and for those of you who celebrated it, I hope you had a wonderful day. For those of you in other countries who didn't celebrate by overeating until you were miserable, I hope you had a... lovely Thursday.

Smarticus and I have lots to be grateful for. He finished radiation this week... and he doesn't glow in the dark!... and today's his last chemo infusion for a while. And only one more round of chemo to go (Woo HOO!) before a PET scan will determine how effective it's all been. We're optimistic, and we're grateful that it's gone as well as it has. (And we're still smiling.)

Okay, so here's the third and final guest post I did a few years ago for The Really Real Housewives of America. Again, I'll run it just as it appeared originally. I hope you enjoy it.

**********************************************************

Hi-ya. Me again. Back for my final fling as this week's guest blogger. And today... anything goes! Woo-HOO! So what are we gonna talk about? Something you've all heard about before, I'm sure... those dreaded midlife crises. You know, that time of life when we allegedly go temporarily nuts, and do all sorts of wild and crazy things because we suddenly notice we're (gasp!) getting old.  Driven by desperation, we supposedly do anything and everything we can to prove we're still young... even if it's nothing but a silly delusion.

HOGWASH!!!

I don't think that midlife crisis nonsense amounts to a hill of beans. Granted, my hubby and I sped past the mid-points of our lives a long time ago, but we still haven't experienced any great angst about getting old, or behaved any nuttier than we ever have. Know why? Because, believe it or not, this is actually a great time of life. Exhilarating, even. We truly ARE the captains of our own ships now. If we want to do something, we do it. Well into the post-retirement years, our time is our own, and what we do with it is up to us.

If an old guy wants to buy a convertible sports car, why shouldn't he? That doesn't have a thing to do with being in crisis. Doggone it, he worked hard all of his life, raised his family, and now, he can finally afford to treat himself to some of the things he's always wanted. We seniors can indulge ourselves by fulfilling some of our delayed wants, the things we put off all of those years when raising our families, and our careers often took top priority. If an old gal wants to dye her hair purple, why the heck not? Maybe it's her favorite color. If an old guy leaves his longtime wife to run off with a twenty-something bimbo, that doesn't mean he's having a mid-life crisis, either. All that means is he's an ass, and probably always has been.

There's actually a lot of good things to say about getting older. Like we generally have the confidence to stand for more convictions, and the moxie to fall for less malarkey. We may still be competitive, but we also realize being kind is much more important than being right. We've learned it isn't very smart to test the depth of the water with both feet, and we understand that the true art of conversation isn't just about saying the right thing. Sometimes, it means keeping our mouths shut when it's oh-so-tempting to deliver a verbal shot.

You may have heard this quote before. It's been sent to me many times, but without attribution, so I don't know who initiated it, but it's worth sharing: Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving in a pretty and well-preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming, "WOW! What a ride!"

That's our plan. To enjoy the ride as long as it lasts, and to carpe the hell out of each diem. Don't make a big deal out of getting old; just enjoy it. My body parts may be getting old, I may take more pills every day than I ever imagined possible, and the pain under my boob may turn out to be a bum knee, but I'm determined to stay young at heart and in attitude. Is that being sassy? Could be, but I refuse to let aging get me down. (For one thing, it's too damned hard to get back up again!) Be assured, ladies, that no matter how old you are, you can still have the body of a 21-year old, if that's what you want. But (Bada-boom!) you may have to buy him a few drinks first...

In closing, I'm gonna make a blatant plug for a book called Old Broads Waxing Poetic, a compilation of poetry from some very talented ladies. (And me.) Best thing about it? All proceeds go to CARE International, a fantastic organization, so none of us will ever see a penny of it. If you're interested, you can find it on Amazon.

Isn't that cover awesome? The image Forever Young is courtesy of a very generous Italian artist named Francesco Romoli, who immediately agreed to let me use it... for free... when I contacted him.

In closing, I'd like to share one of my poems from that book with you. It's called Ode to Old Age.

I found a hair there under my chin,
And I yanked that sucker out,
But wouldn't you know, the very  next day,
Two more began to sprout.
I don't know what's happening;
It's a perplexing change of pace,
My arms and legs are going bald,
But I've gotta shave my face.

It's such a rotten travesty;
My tummy once was flat.
But now my hourglass is mostly ass,
And my waist has turned to fat.
My body's slowly sagging,
And I don't look so hot;
If a man wants to ogle my bosom now,
I'm afraid he'll have to squat.

But that's okay, 'cause I'm still here,
Of life I'm still a part.
So what if when I bend or stretch,
I leak a little fart?
I've lots of life and love in store,
Though I'm not young and shiny;
If ya wanta know the truth,
Old age can kiss my heinie.

Well, that's it, folks. It's been a pleasure. Thanks to the lovely Tammy for inviting me over to do a few guest posts. Remember: A good attitude is contagious, but for Heaven's sake, don't wait to catch it from someone. Be a carrier.

Best wishes from Susan, longtime housewife, and visiting SOB (Sassy Old Broad)

Susan with her hubby's 1930 Model A rat rod. (Lucky for her, he apparently likes old things.)

If you're a glutton for punishment, and want more of Susan's SOB sense of humor, you're cordially invited to visit her blog I Think; Therefore, I Yam where she blogs most Fridays.








UPDATE: Not much... only that I'm even OLDER now. But we're happy to still be here. Any day we both wake up in the morning is a good one.

                              Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

And Today's Winner is... YOU!

Thought for the day:  Today I will live in the moment. Unless it's unpleasant, in which case, I will eat a cupcake.

[image courtesy of Unsplash]

 I'd say we're all winners, or at least, we all have an equal opportunity to make this a terrific... and winning... day. All we have to do is carpe the hell out of the diem. Seize the day, people!

I was at a loss as to what to write about today, so I decided to let the day itself dictate the topic.

So what's special about this day?

Well, for one thing, February first is the day Abraham Lincoln signed the 13th amendment, which ended slavery in the United States. In 1948, Truman honored the event by making today National Freedom Day as a way to recognize America as a symbol of freedom.

May freedom and justice become realities... and not just lofty ideals or symbols... both in the U.S. and in every corner of the world.

We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope. [Martin Luther King, Jr.]

So, please... feel free to celebrate! We can't all visit the Liberty Bell to lay a wreath, but we can most certainly go to Taco Bell for lunch.

[image courtesy of Morguefile]

Know what else today is?

Hula in the Coola Day! Woo HOO!

Know how to celebrate? Go outside and do the hula, of course! Maybe you could have a luau, even. With tiki torches and ukuleles, the whole bit. (On the plus side, if there's snow on the ground in your neck of the woods, maybe the tiki torches will encourage it to melt...?)

Reminds me a little of the one and only time I ever went trick-or-treating. I was thirteen years old. My father was... let's just say he was difficult... so Halloween at our house meant locking the door, closing the drapes, and turning out the lights. Forget giving candy to any so-and-so neighborhood kids, let alone allowing this so-and-so kid to go out begging for it. But that year... my father was working the 3 to 11 shift, and my mother said I could go out with my friends. (Yes, there may possibly have been some uber dramatic begging involved.) Anyhow, I decided to go as a hula dancer. Yeah. In Maryland. In October. I made the coolest grass skirt ever out of crepe paper, and I decorated a bra top out the wazoo, and I even had a lei. I was ready, baby!

My mother said no way.

She made me wear a sweater under the decorated-out-the-wazoo bra top, dungarees under the skirt, and a big old coat over top. Let's just say I didn't do the hula... but don't let that stop YOU from doing it today!

[image courtesy of morguefile]

Let's see... what else is being celebrated today...?

Well, it's Change Your Password Day. (You can go first...) It's also G.I. Joe Day, a day to celebrate the first doll designed just for boys. Yeah, yeah, I know. NOT a doll. An action figure. (I wonder why he and Barbie never got together? Think her personality's too plastic for him?)

Today is also (ta-Da!) Decorating with Candy Day. Pretty cool, I guess, but heck, I celebrate that darned near every day. I simply love to decorate my tummy with candy...

[image courtesy of morguefile]

YUM! Today is also National Baked Alaska Day. To be perfectly honest, I've never tasted this dessert before, but the cake, ice cream and browned meringue combination sounds absolutely scrumptious. Maybe today's the day...?

Today is also National Serpent Day and Robinson Crusoe Day. (Rather fitting that the day falls on a Friday this year, dontcha think?)

It's also National Get Up Day.

Somehow, I think expectations are higher than simply crawling out of bed, but at least, I accomplished that much. Baby steps, people. Baby steps.

Tomorrow, I may touch my toes.







I saved the best for last.

                                                       Today is Spunky Old Broads Day!

Actually, today is the first day of a whole month's celebration of us sassy women over fifty who refuse to get old quietly, and who are hell-bent on living a regret-free life. YAY, us!!!

Today is the oldest you've ever been and the youngest you'll ever be, so make the most of it!

                             Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

What Are You Waiting For?

Thought for the day: Two blondes were waiting for a bus, and when it finally came, the first one asked the driver if the bus would take her to Peachtree Street. When the driver said no, the second one stuck out her bottom lip and told her, 'Oh, that's too bad!' Then she asked the driver, 'How about me...?'

[image courtesy of unsplash]

Public transportation is readily available in Baltimore, so years  ago, my friends and I usually depended on buses to get us where we wanted to go. Like the blondes in the thought for the day, a bus always stopped to pick us up sooner or later, but unlike them, we were familiar with the bus routes.

But... what if a bus never came? What if the so-called bus stop were nothing more than a replica of a bus stop... a perfectly designed prop?

[image courtesy of unsplash]

I read an article recently about just such a thing. Fake bus stops. They look like regular bus stops... and some of them even look like bus stops from many decades ago... but they're not located near a street, and no bus is ever going to pick up any passengers from them.

They're located next to some nursing homes in Germany. The first was built outside a Dusseldorf nursing home in 2008, and since then, many more have been built at other nursing homes around the country.

Why, you might ask? Alzheimer's patients, as well as those with other forms of dementia, sometimes have a propensity for wandering off, and in many cases, it's because they want to go home... usually to a home from the distant past that no longer exists. Like people who spent the last of their money, only to get on the wrong bus, they're trapped on a ride none of them wanted to take, and they can't get off. Addled, confused, and often lonely, memories of the past are much more real to them than what they had for breakfast on any given day. Since the advent of these bus stops, these patients, filled with a temporary sense of freedom, happily chat with each other while they wait for their bus. Then after a while, they can safely be brought back inside. These nursing home bus stops fill a need and serve a purpose.

COME ON, LADY... IN OR OUT!

I visited nursing homes as a volunteer, and again when my father was a patient in one, and now that I'm getting to be an old bag, the thought of being dumped in a nursing home gives me the shivers. But if I ever DO have to go into one of those places, I think I want it to be in Germany.

No, not because of the fake bus stops. Because of a 2014 calendar. A very cool 2014 calendar created by some very cool residents of the Contilia Nursing Home in Essen, Germany. I read about it some years ago, and the bus stop story reminded me of it. So I looked it up... and found the pics that were made into the limited edition calendar. Wanta see?

JANUARY: Wilhelm Buiting, 89

FEBRUARY: Marianne Brunsbach, 86

MARCH: Erna Rutt, 86 & Alfred Kelbch, 81

APRIL: Erwin J. von der Heiden, 80

MAY: Erna Schenk, 78

JUNE: Ingeborg Giobass, 84 & Erich Endlein, 88

JULY: Lothar Wischnewski, 76 & Margarete Schmidt, 77

AUGUST: Martha Bajohr, 77

SEPTEMBER: Joanna Trachenberg, 81 & Horst Krischat, 78

OCTOBER: Irmgard Alt, 79 & Siegfried Gallasch, 87

NOVEMBER: Johann Liedtke, 92 & Marianne Pape, 79

DECEMBER: Walter Loeser, 98 & Kurt Neuhaus, 90

Dontcha LOVE 'em? Did you recognize all of the characters and/or movie scenes they recreated for their calendar? All of these folks... all the way up to age 98!... had a grand time getting into costume and making the scenes come alive for their calendar, and I love that the home they were in made it possible for them to do it. They showed great compassion and allowed the patients to express themselves in a most unusual way, and they even provided the props, staging and photographers. That's certainly above and beyond anything I've ever heard of any other nursing home doing.

If YOU could recreate any scene from any movie, what would it be? I'm thinking the iconic beach scene in From Here to Eternity... or, ooooh, wouldn't it be cool to be done up like Scarlett O'Hara in that gorgeous gown she made from her green velvet drapes? (Natch, the scene would have to include a very dapper-looking Rhett.)

You know, sometimes without meaning to, we act like we're waiting at a fake bus stop for a bus that will never come. Content to wait for someone or something to come along and take us to the destination of our dreams, we sit passively and waste precious time procrastinating, when we have the capability to get up and climb into the driver's seat ourselves.

Now, I'm not telling you to steal a bus. If you're already on the right bus, and it's heading down the road in exactly the direction you want to go, that's great. Hold on tightly... with whatever you've got... and enjoy the ride.

If you want to go to Peachtree Street, and the bus you're on doesn't go there... how long will you sit there passively and continue to ride in the wrong direction?

And if the bus still hasn't shown up to spirit you away, how long are you willing to wait for something to happen? You are capable. Don't just think about calling that old friend... do it. Don't just wish you could write a book or learn to play the piano... do it. The recipe you've been wanting to try, or the book you wanted to read? Why not do it this week? The good china you've been saving for a special occasion? Why not make that special occasion today?

The bad news is time really does fly. But the good news is... we're the pilots. Stop waiting for something to happen, because that bus you're waiting for may never come. The keys are already right there in your hand. Why not use them?

[image courtesy of unsplash]

                                   Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

Entering Uncharted Territory

Thought for the day:  You know you're getting old when the candles cost more than the cake. 

I clearly remember reading a book as a young girl in which the main character was a sixth grade paperboy named Henry, and I, all six or seven wide-eyed years of me, thought Henry was... really old. Isn't it funny how our perspective changes? Hell, look at me now... now I have the chutzpah to pretend I'm not old.

We're only young once, but with humor, we can be immature forever. [Art Gliner]



When Karen Walker asked if I'd like to submit an essay for an anthology about aging, I jumped at the opportunity. (Okay... I hobbled... let's not split hairs here, people.) Why would I want to do such a thing, you ask? The way I see it, even though bazillions of people have already ventured into the murky seas of old age, it's still uncharted mysterious territory for each of us as individuals, which can make the transition much scarier than it has to be. So... wouldn't it be great if some of the folks who've already taken the plunge provided a road map of sorts for those who are about to enter those uncharted territories? How? By sharing some of their words of wisdom.

With old age comes wisdom, but sometimes, age comes alone. [Oscar Wilde]

Okay, I'm not saying I'm to be counted as one of the wise folks who contributed to this book, but I am a wise-ass, which is almost as good, right? The question of the day is: Who are we? Are you the person the world sees when it looks at you... or is the real you the ageless person you are inside? No matter how old I am, I am still me. Sometimes the world forgets that, but this book does a beautiful job of reminding us. Whether you're curious about what may lie ahead of you in your golden years, or whether you're already knee-deep in them, this is a book everyone can enjoy.

When you come to the edge of the light that you know, and you are about to step off into the darkness of the unknown, faith is knowing that one of two things will happen. There will be something to land on, or you will learn to fly. [anonymous]

This book will help make the unknown more... known. Less scary. And for those of you who are already dealing with some of the issues described in this book, you'll be reassured to know... you ain't alone, baby.  And let us all remember, when we look at another person, no matter what their age, there's always much more to that person than meets the eye.

If you close your eyes and take a deep breath, how old do YOU feel inside? With me, it varies. Sometimes Smarticus tells me I act like a two-year old, but I think that's the exception.

Youth is the gift of nature, but age is a work of art. [Stanislaw Jerzy Lec]

                                          (Too bad my artist is Picasso...)

                     Read on to see how you can win a FREE copy of this book.

                           Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

P.S. This old broad will be hanging out with four of her grandchildren for a while, so it'll take longer than usual for me to respond to your comments and visit your blogs. But fear not...I'll be Bach.

It’s a pleasure to be participating in the Blog Tour for STILL ME … AFTER ALL THESE YEARS: 24 Authors Reflect on Aging by Karen Helene Walker through MC Book Tours.

This is a charming, funny, and enlightening collection of essays about aging. In addition, Karen is offering a tour-wide giveaway featuring two (2) print copies (U.S. entries only) of STILL ME and two (2) eBook copies of STILL ME (International entries). See how you can enter to win below.

◊ STILL ME…AFTER ALL THESE YEARS: 24 Authors Reflect on Aging

◊ By Karen Helene Walker

◊ Kindle: 2000 KB, 102 pages

◊ Genre: Biographies, Memoirs, Nonfiction

◊ Publication Date: April 4, 2017

◊ Language: English

◊ ASIN: BO6WWRK82K

Poignant...Humorous...Brutally Honest!

A collection of personal reflections guaranteed to keep you inspired and entertained on that journey we all travel together: The Journey of Aging.

With a blend of grace, dignity, warmth and humor, women and men from 60 to 90 and from all walks of life candidly share the blessings and pitfalls of aging – from keeping dreams alive and keeping sex lives active to dealing with retirement, loss of independence and a growing sense of mortality.

A BOOK ABOUT LIVING EVERY MOMENT OF LIFE!

STILL ME is available at the following sites: Amazon (print and Kindle), Barnes and Noble, Kobo, and iTunes. Be sure to add it to your shelf on Goodreads.

Rev. Clara Alexander is an ordained New Thought minister who creates and performs sacred ceremonies, including unique weddings, funerals, memorial services, baby blessings and house blessings. She is also a popular speaker, inspiring groups with her talks on how we cling to our grudges, how we overuse the phrase “I’m sorry” and how we can live the life we love.

Wendy Brown recently retired from a career in wildlife biology, where she studied sandhill cranes and whooping cranes as they migrated from Idaho to New Mexico. Wendy eventually found a permanent home in Albuquerque, where she and her husband enjoy the sounds of sandhill cranes from their deck. Since retiring from state government in 2014. 


Valerie Capps has bypassed the porch rocking chair to pursue her life-long passion for writing, thereby proving that in today’s world, life can begin again at 65! Valerie lives in Nashville with her husband and their spoiled-rotten Welsh Corgi. www.amazon.com/Valerie-Capps/e/B016VD9V72

Mary W. Clark retired from her law practice in 2007 and transferred her observation and composition skills to travel writing. She is currently working on a book about her father’s World War II experience flying “the Hump” from India to China over the Himalayas. Mary lives in Paris, Texas. www.maryclarktraveler.com

Fran Fischer: “I was born at a very young age and that happened 82 years ago, so I don’t remember much about it. I’ve crammed as much living into my life as possible, and I’m not through yet. I’ve traveled extensively and I even flew in the same zero-gravity plane that the astronauts trained in. I live in California with my first (and only) husband, and we celebrated our 62nd anniversary this year.”

Pat Garcia (Patricia Anne Pierce-Garcia Schaack) is an American expatriate living in Europe. An accomplished musician as well as a writer, she has been writing (and reading) since childhood.

Mark David Gerson is the author of more than a dozen books, including critically acclaimed titles for writers, award-winning fiction, and compelling memoirs. Known as “The Birthing Your Book Guru,” Mark David works with an international roster of clients as coach and consultant, helping them get their stories onto the page and into the world with ease. www.markdavidgerson.com

Holly Deuel Gilster plays “make believe” for a living. In other words, she is a professional actress and musician. Holly also loves painting with words as an accomplished poet, an award-winning short-story writer and a book reviewer for The Or Echo.

Aaron Gordon is a retired social sciences community college professor. He and his wife, Ellie, have been married for 65 years and have three children and grandchildren.

Ellie Gordon is a retired public school teacher who spent the best 20 years of her life in the classroom. A Chicago native, she now lives in New Mexico.

Karla “Rosie” Harper recently retired from teaching elementary school, freeing her to return to her early love of dancing. Today, when not helping out with her grandchildren, Rosie is taking dance lessons, spinning on a dance floor or performing in senior centers and retirement communities with Albuquerque’s Sugartime, as a singer as well as a dancer.

Linda Hoye is the author of Two Hearts: An Adoptee’s Journey Through Grief to Gratitude, available through major online retailers. A native of Saskatchewan, Linda currently lives in British Columbia (by way of Washington State) with her husband and doted-upon Yorkshire Terrier. www.lindahoye.com

E.V. Legters hasn’t so much retired as she has exchanged one life for another — from rewarding years with career and children (while pursuing the arts on the fly) to a life with the arts at its center. She is the author of Vanishing Point and Connected Underneath and is currently hard at work on her third novel. www.evlegters.com

LD Masterson lived on both coasts before becoming landlocked in Ohio. After twenty years managing computers for the American Red Cross, she now divides her time between writing, volunteer work and enjoying her grandchildren. Her short stories have been published in several magazines and anthologies, and she is currently working on a new novel. www.ldmasterson.com

Kathleen Messmer not only runs a film production company with offices in the UK and the US, she is an avid photographer and wildlife advocate. In the unlikely event that she ever retires, Kathleen plans to live on a ranch with draft horses and pygmy goats and vineyards and fruit orchards, somewhere near the water. Oh, and a cowboy...maybe. www.kathleenmessmer.com

Karen Norstad has worked as cashier/gift wrapper, secretary, boutique seamstress, administrative assistant, manager of employee stock options, executive assistant, and budget analyst. Now retired, Karen’s life revolves around lounging about, wearing PJs until four in the afternoon, obsessing over the news, reading, fusing and slumping glass, practicing piano, keeping a small balcony garden and cooking.

Matt Nyman’s nonlinear career path has included working in the geological sciences, teaching high school, stay-at-home parenting and, currently, training tomorrow’s teachers. Poetry equently resides near the surface of his existence, occasionally erupting onto paper.

Jill Plaman was born and began aging in Milwaukee, but she has lived and worked in Albuquerque since 1977. She holds a BS from the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee and an MSW from the University of Minnesota. Her special interests are travel, international folk dancing, reading, hiking and spending time with family and friends.

Maureen Polikoff is a clinical social worker/ therapist who has always pursued many other creative endeavors, including painting, playing music and, now, writing. A Connecticut native, she lives in New Mexico with her husband, Michael.

MaryFrank Sanborn left Boston 33 years ago, to apprentice with photographer Walter Chappell in Santa Fe. Still in love with the beauty of the Southwest, MaryFrank photographs, writes, hikes, travels, teaches yoga and meditation, makes soups on Sundays, and dreams of the ocean and whales.

Patricia Stoltey is the author of four mystery novels. The most recent is Wishing Caswell Dead. She lives in Northern Colorado with Sassy Dog, Katie Cat and her husband, Bill. www.patriciastolteybooks.com

Susan Swiderski grew up in Dundalk, Maryland, where everybody calls everybody hon and eating steamed crabs is a sacrament. Although she’s happy in her adopted Georgia, part of her heart still lingers on the shores of Chesapeake Bay, explaining the setting for her novel, Hot Flashes and Cold Lemonade. Susan is currently working on a trilogy, proof that this old gal is still a pathological optimist. www.susan-swiderski.blogspot.com

Jan Castle Walker is a retired teacher and an active artist. She lives in Davis, California with her husband, Mack. www.jancastlewalker.com

Karen Helene Walker is a novelist, memoirist and essayist and the author of The Wishing Steps and Following the Whispers. When not writing, Karen is tap dancing, folk dancing or performing with the musical group Sugartime at retirement communities. Karen is currently working on her second memoir. www.karenfollowingthewhispers.blogspot.com 

You can follow Karen and the other authors along on their tour by checking out the schedule HERE.

This tour-wide giveaway is for two (2) print copies (U.S. entries only) and two (2) eBook copies of STILL ME … AFTER ALL THESE YEARS: 24 Authors Reflect on Aging. The giveaway will end at 12 a.m. (EST) on Tuesday, April 4.

To enter, click on the Rafflecopter widget below and follow the instructions. The widget may take a few seconds to load so please be patient.

Thanks for stopping by today. Be sure to check out this charming book.



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Time Ain't On My Side

Thought for the day:  I think our house is haunted. Every time I try to look into a mirror, some fat old lady gets in front of me so I can't even see my reflection. 

Time for this old gal to try something new. The Insecure Writer's Support Group has been around for quite a while now, but up until now, I've been content to sit back as an observer. Well no more! The clock may be running down, dadgum it, but it's time to get my sorry butt off the bench and into the game before the buzzer sounds to end the game.

The first Wednesday of every month, participants write a pertinent ISWG post, and this month, for the first time, I'm one of 'em.(You can find a list of other insecure writers who are participating this month by clicking on that participants link.) 

Now then, let's start by addressing the basic issue of insecurity. Am I insecure, and if so, why? A gal named Sheila Kaye-Smith said it best: I am old enough to see how little I have done in so much time, and how much I have to do in so little.

Yep, that's it in a nutshell. I'm an old broad. I'm not particularly upset about being this old, because it happens to everybody, and there's a lot of good things to say about this time of life. But considering I've been an avid reader and writer my entire life, the fact that I've only published one novel in all these years is a wee bit disheartening. Not that I'm not happy with Hot Flashes and Cold Lemonade. I am. But for the most part, since it came out, I've been sitting back as an observer... just thinking about writing another book, and thinking about when I could find time to do it, instead of actually doing it.

No more! My butt is off the bench and back into that game, too. The thing is, I'm working on a trilogy. An ambitious undertaking at any age, but even greater for someone with nearly fifty years of marriage under her belt and a whopping crop of thirteen grandchildren. I mean, what if I don't live long enough to finish it?

I say... SO WHAT???

So far, I'm only about half-way through the first draft of book one. Maybe I'll live long enough to complete all three books; maybe I won't. But I am going to keep at it, because that's what writers do, right? We write. And for me, for now, the finally getting around to beginning another book is what matters most.

Thoreau said None are so old as those who have outlived enthusiasm. That I still have. In spades.

The question for this month is How do you find the time to write in your busy day?

Funny you should ask, because not finding time to write is the reason... no make that the excuse... I used for not getting started on this trilogy sooner. We all have twenty-four hours in a day, and how we use them is a good indicator of where our priorities lie. Trouble is, I wasn't prioritizing writing. At all. I've always been an early riser, but when I got up, I'd have a cup or two of tea, and read the newspaper. If my better half still hadn't shown his smiling face by the time I'd finished devouring the newspaper, I'd check emails. Once my hubby got up, it'd be time to cook breakfast and start the daily routine of chores. One thing would lead to another, and before I knew it, yet another day had passed without me writing a single word of my so-called Work-in-Progress. I made time to read, and time to write reviews, and time to edit for other writers, and to putz around in the blogosphere, but nothing... zip, zilch, zero... no time at all went into the book I supposedly wanted to write. I'd done tons of research in preparation, but when it came to the actual writing... I couldn't find the time.

Dumb, dumb, dumb!!!

Few things are as foolish as hoping old behaviors will somehow present new results. [Robin Sharma]

Clearly, if I wanted different results, I had to change my behavior.

Now? Those delicious early morning hours are spent with a cup or two of tea and my writing notebook. Every morning, I spend a peaceful hour or two with pen in hand, and it feels awesome!!! Now that I'm in the habit, and getting all wrapped up in my book, I'm even finding additional time here and there during the day, as well. Son of a gun! Time I didn't think I had was actually there all along. Bottom line? If you truly want to write, you will find the time.

                             Nice to meet you guys. It's fun to be part of a team again.

Now, for a quick tip of the hat to a gal who definitely knows how to find time to write. Not only has the lovely Julie Flanders written four terrific thrillers to scare the bejeezus out of us adults, (Polar Night, Polar Day, The Turnagain Arm, and The Ghosts of Aquinnah)  but she has now written something that's (ahem) the polar opposite. Tomorrow, her first children's picture book will be released. CONGRATULATIONS, Julie!

                                                                     Here's the scoop:

Baby Moo has a dream. He wants to travel the world and sing on the stage of the Sydney Opera House! While he loves his home at Sunrise Sanctuary, it hasn’t been the same since a piglet named Nathan showed up and stole all the attention away from Moo. Jealous of the new baby, Moo decides now is the time to make his escape and pursue his dream.

But the world outside the sanctuary gates is not quite the fun and exciting place Moo imagined, and he quickly finds himself in big trouble. Moo's friends Missy the dog and Ruthie the cat rush to help him, and land in some trouble of their own.

Lost and frightened, Moo and his friends must rely on each other to find their way back home. Will they ever see Sunrise again?

Release date: September 8, 2016 from Native Ink Press

Links:

https://julieflanders.blogspot.com/p/baby-moos-great-escape.html

Add on Goodreads

Julie will donate $1 to Sunrise Sanctuary, home to Baby Moo and numerous other rescued animals, for each copy sold in September.

                        Here's wishing all the best to Julie Flanders and sweet Baby Moo. 

              [To my regular readers, this will be my only post this week. Seeya next Friday!]
{Oh, crap-a-doodle-doo. Turns out, I may be away from the computer for several days, so it may take me longer than usual to respond to your comments. Sorry. I'll get to your blogs asap.}

                            Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

As Years Go By

Thought for the day:  Time can be spent, but it can't be bought, so we've gotta spend it wisely. (It isn't always on our side...)

Last Saturday was our high school reunion, but Smarticus and I didn't spend all day driving to Maryland so we could attend. It wasn't our hundredth, but in human terms, it was a pretty big milestone. Fifty. (gulp) Fifty. (Maybe we'll attend our hundredth?)

To celebrate that rather auspicious half-century mark, I offer you the following poem about reunions. (Author unknown.)

Every five years, as summertime nears,
An announcement arrives in the mail,
A reunion is planned; it'll be really grand;
Make plans to attend without fail.

I'll never forget the first time we met;
We tried so hard to impress.
We drove fancy cars, smoked big cigars,
And wore our most elegant dress.

It was quite an affair; the whole class was there.
It was held at a fancy hotel.
We wined, and we dined, and we acted refined,
And everyone thought it was swell.

The men all conversed about who had been first
To achieve great fortune and fame.
Meanwhile, their spouses described their fine houses
And how beautiful their children became.

The homecoming queen, who once had been lean,
Now weighed in at one-ninety-six.
The jocks who were there had all lost their hair,
And the cheerleaders could no longer do kicks.

No one had heard about the class nerd
Who'd guided a spacecraft to the moon;
Or poor little Jane, who's always been plain;
She married a shipping tycoon.

The boy we'd decreed 'most apt to succeed'
Was serving ten years in the pen,
While the one voted 'least' now was a priest;
Just shows you can be wrong now and then.

They awarded a prize to one of the guys
Who seemed to have aged the least..
Another was given to the grad who had driven
The farthest to attend the feast.


They took a class picture, a curious mixture
Of beehives, crew cuts and wide ties.
Tall, short, or skinny, the style was the mini;
You never saw so many thighs.

At our next get-together, no one cared whether
They impressed their classmates or not.
The mood was informal, a whole lot more normal;
By this time we'd all gone to pot.

It was held out-of-doors, at the lake shores;
We ate hamburgers, coleslaw, and beans.
Then most of us lay around in the shade,
In our comfortable T-shirts and jeans.

By the fiftieth year, it was abundantly clear,
We were definitely over the hill.
****

[Hmmmph! How can we be over the hill when we haven't even reached the top yet?]

So how did we spend our time in lieu of pretending a bunch of old farts and fartessas still look just like they did fifty years ago? We spent it with youngsters... four of our grandchildren. Rather than feeling old and (hmmmph) over the hill, we played and laughed and felt... young. Okay... young-ish. 

This summer, while our son and daughter-in-law are at work, their kiddos will be spending weekdays at karate camp, which is like a totally cool daycare, with karate lessons, and all kinds of other sports activities, field trips, and adventures. So while waiting for the family to get home, Smarticus and I visited the Civil War Naval Museum in Columbus. We'd been there before, but there was a new exhibit there that we hadn't seen: the Maple Leaf.

This paddle-wheeled steamer, which was built in Canada, (explains its name) and contracted by the U.S. Army during the Civil War, was sunk by a Confederate torpedo, and now rests at the bottom of the St. John's River, near Jacksonville, Florida. This shipwreck contains the largest collection of Civil War military and personal items in the country, and some of the recovered 130+ year-old items are currently on display at the museum in Columbus.

Plate and eating utensils.

Various recovered weapons and other items.

And of course, there was lots of other stuff to see at the museum, too...

Anybody know what this is?

It's the iron hull plate from the Civil War ironclad the Monitor. It was recovered in 1998, and weighs about 375 pounds. [This cool piece is currently on loan from the Mariners' Museum in Newport News, Virginia. Very nice of the Yankee aggressors to share, don't you think...?]

Okay, I don't want to screw up by making this post too long...

So I'm gonna drop anchor on talking about the museum, and move on to the kids.

Kymber looks surprised to have won her school's Student of the Year award, doesn't she?. 

L to R: Kymber, Devyn, Jaiden, and Aaron. Yeah, Aaron is the hambone. Also the one who's fascinated by weird facts, so you know I had fun telling and showing him about some of the disgusting things I know.

Now, thanks to their weird grandma, the kids know about lizards that squirt blood from their eyes, animals that break their own bones as a means of self-defense, beetles that squirt toxic liquid out of their butts,  a toxic bird called, appropriately enough, the patooie, and  they even saw pictures of dead cockroaches clad in tiny costumes. (Which used to be on display at a cockroach museum in Plano, Texas.)

Weird grandma? Maybe, but also a very happy one. No question about it. These kids conquered me and my heart a long time ago, and they still take it hostage every time we visit.


An hour with your grandchildren can make you feel young again. Anything longer than that, you start to age quickly. [Gene Perret]

But ya know what? It is totally worth it...  and one of my favorite ways to spend time.

How about you? Have you attended any of your class reunions? (We went to one... our thirtieth. There were a bunch of old people there...)

Do you, like me, ever look at other people your age and think they look much older than you do? If so, you'll appreciate this joke:

While sitting in my new dentist's waiting room, I noticed his diploma on the wall, and seeing his full name on it immediately brought to mind a tall, dark-haired, handsome boy with the same name, who'd been in my high school class nearly 50 years ago.

Could this dentist possibly be the boy I had a secret crush on in high school?

When I saw him, I quickly dismissed that possibility, because there was no way this gray-haired, balding man with the deeply wrinkled face could have been my classmate. He was way too old. Or was he?

After he examined my teeth, I asked him if he'd gone to Dundalk High School.

"Yes, I did!" he said with a smile.

"What year did you graduate?" I asked.

"In 1966," he said. "Why do you ask?"

"I was in your class!" I exclaimed.

He looked at me closely. Then, that ugly, wrinkled, old, fat, bald, gray, decrepit SOB had the audacity to ask, "What did you teach?"

****

Smarticus included the following in an email of funny stuff he sent me recently, and it puts some of the changes that have occurred in the past fifty years into perspective:

1966: Long hair
2016: Longing for hair

1966: KEG
2016: EKG

1966: Acid rock
2016: Acid reflux

1966: Moving to California because it's cool
2016: Moving to Arizona because it's warm

1966: Trying to look like Marlon Brando or Liz Taylor
2016: Trying NOT to look like Marlon Brando or Liz Taylor

1966: Seeds and stems
2016: Roughage

1966: Hoping for a BMW
2016: Hoping for a BM

1966: Going to a new, hip joint
2016: Receiving a new hip joint

1966: Rolling Stones
2016: Kidney stones

1966: Screw the system
2016: Upgrade the system

1966: Disco
2016: Costco

1966: Parents begging you to get your hair cut
2016: Children begging you to get their heads shaved

1966: Passing the driver's test
2016: Passing the vision test

1966: Whatever
2016: Depends

                                          ( For the record, I still like the Rolling Stones...)

                                     Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.