Seems I've had a lot of posts lately about aging, but it is a condition from which we cannot escape. And recently I was reminded of just how much aging I have done in my lifetime.
My daughter, bless her heart, is coping with empty nest syndrome way better than I did, but there are still those times when she is reminded of how much aging she has done....which in turn makes me feel ancient.
I'm sure it's happened to you .. that moment when you realize you have to do the math again to determine how long ago something happened. You've been comfortable saying "Haven't seen Uncle Hiram for three...wait, five....man, it's been ten years since we saw him. Is he still alive???"
For my daughter, it was being able to say that something happened to her twenty years ago. She does have a child that is over twenty-one now so that shouldn't be so surprising to her but to think of some other momentous occasion and realize that time has passed while you weren't paying attention, although you were there in every moment.... well darn...it can make you do a double-take.
For me is was a quadruple take... to hear my daughter speak of aging the way I used to made me feel like I should be a little apple doll sitting in the corner collecting dust, which, come to think of it, I really do quite often if circumstances allow.
She may have a child over twenty-one but that means I have a grandchild that old. Which makes me think of my child when she turned twenty-one and then myself when I turned twenty-one. THAT was a lo-o-o-o-o-ng time ago. A lot of water has passed beneath my bridge, the one I haven't burned.
And although it makes me fear that my days are growing shorter on this earth, it makes realize that aging is really nothing to fear but rather a reason to celebrate. I am here to see my daughter struggle with this dilemma. I will encourage my grandson, when I see him at Christmas time, to give his mom a hard time about getting on in years (I can hear his smart remark now "Hey Mom, you're gonna catch up with Gama if you don't slow down") And I will try to hold on and share as many memories of the years I have had ... if anyone feels like listening.
Aging is an adventure. Aging is a challenge. Aging is pretty okay when you realize that it has given you a rich history and a lot, and I mean a LOT, of good times with people you love and who love you back :)
Saturday, November 26, 2016
Monday, September 26, 2016
Behind Every Great Woman
Behind every Great Woman is a Lousy Man.
Now I know that sounds wrong but, think about it. Your man doesn't help with the kids, never changes a diaper and couldn't feed them if you gave him instructions. They do better fending for themselves.
You're out on the freeway with a flat tire. Can he come to your rescue?? .... no, he left his phone at home and no one even knows where he is.
The plumbing springs a leak and where is he now...at a friend's house watching football and drinking beer. Will he be home soon?? No. Turn the valve and call the plumber he says.
And the car won't start. Dead battery?? Clogged lines??
Who knows.
Is he nearby to give a helping hand. NO!!!
Why not??
Out hunting with his best bud... not gonna be home for a week.
So, you have now learned to be the best mother you can while you still do the shopping and cleaning and managing and transporting etc etc etc.
You learned to fix a flat in the pouring rain. No worries. Next time it'll be a cinch 'cause if you can do it in the pouring rain, in your high heels and your best interview dress, then when you walk out and see you have to start the day with a flat, you be smilin' ----- not to mention that you can also change spark plugs, check timing, check fluid levels and determine you need a new car. That might have more to do with the fact that it's 20 years old and has nothing to do with the fact that it needs another quart of oil. Third this week.
And plumbers..... who needs one of those guys anyway?? They never seem to dress right, why should I expect one of them to be able to fix my pipes, he can't even tie his own shoes! or put his pants on right!!
So, you see, we work our way to greatness because there is never a man to rescue us. It makes us wonder why the guys ever thought getting married was a good idea, because after dealing with the broken car, calling plumbers and car parts stores, does he really think you're gonna be all about rewarding him with a fun night in the sack????? gimme a break a'ready!!!!!!
Now, I know there are those of you out there who managed to find a Real Man. Just know... the rest of us 'Great Women' envy you. But in the meantime, we are learning to be plumbers, mechanics, medics, drivers, lawyers* (*you ever try to reason with children under the age of twelve??) roofers, (yep fixed that leak, I did) and probably a few I can't think of right now.
But never fear. Next time you find yourself on the freeway, with a flat tire in the pouring rain, with nothing but a screwdriver and a piece of chewing gum, remind yourself you are on your way to greatness ....
......and remember to buy a can of fix-a-flat on your way home.
Now I know that sounds wrong but, think about it. Your man doesn't help with the kids, never changes a diaper and couldn't feed them if you gave him instructions. They do better fending for themselves.
You're out on the freeway with a flat tire. Can he come to your rescue?? .... no, he left his phone at home and no one even knows where he is.
The plumbing springs a leak and where is he now...at a friend's house watching football and drinking beer. Will he be home soon?? No. Turn the valve and call the plumber he says.
And the car won't start. Dead battery?? Clogged lines??
Who knows.
Is he nearby to give a helping hand. NO!!!
Why not??
Out hunting with his best bud... not gonna be home for a week.
So, you have now learned to be the best mother you can while you still do the shopping and cleaning and managing and transporting etc etc etc.
You learned to fix a flat in the pouring rain. No worries. Next time it'll be a cinch 'cause if you can do it in the pouring rain, in your high heels and your best interview dress, then when you walk out and see you have to start the day with a flat, you be smilin' ----- not to mention that you can also change spark plugs, check timing, check fluid levels and determine you need a new car. That might have more to do with the fact that it's 20 years old and has nothing to do with the fact that it needs another quart of oil. Third this week.
And plumbers..... who needs one of those guys anyway?? They never seem to dress right, why should I expect one of them to be able to fix my pipes, he can't even tie his own shoes! or put his pants on right!!
So, you see, we work our way to greatness because there is never a man to rescue us. It makes us wonder why the guys ever thought getting married was a good idea, because after dealing with the broken car, calling plumbers and car parts stores, does he really think you're gonna be all about rewarding him with a fun night in the sack????? gimme a break a'ready!!!!!!
Now, I know there are those of you out there who managed to find a Real Man. Just know... the rest of us 'Great Women' envy you. But in the meantime, we are learning to be plumbers, mechanics, medics, drivers, lawyers* (*you ever try to reason with children under the age of twelve??) roofers, (yep fixed that leak, I did) and probably a few I can't think of right now.
But never fear. Next time you find yourself on the freeway, with a flat tire in the pouring rain, with nothing but a screwdriver and a piece of chewing gum, remind yourself you are on your way to greatness ....
......and remember to buy a can of fix-a-flat on your way home.
Saturday, September 17, 2016
Flattery or Sincerity??
They say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. I understand this concept, but when I see a copycat it also makes me want to smack somebody and ask them if they've ever had an original idea of their own. Probably not. This season's line-up of movie remakes is proof of that.
I, too, am guilty of being a copycat because some folks just come up with great ideas and I can't really improve on them. I can customize, but not improve. I can complain about the parts I don't like, but that probably wouldn't result in an improvement for anyone but me.
And when folks think you've done a good thing but you think it's G-R-E-A-T!! then what?? You want to shout it from a rooftop but everyone is just going to stare at you and tell you to get down from there before you hurt yourself. Personally, I like the rarefied atmosphere at high altitudes :)
I put a lot of thought, effort - blood, sweat and tears - into some of my creations. Others are effortless and seem to come into existence full grown. No matter how, they all give me a sense of satisfaction, of a job well done, a sense of completeness and accomplishment. (Yes, please ignore the bald spots. The doctor said my hair will grow back if I quit pulling it out!!)
It is this feeling I should strive to keep in the forefront of my thoughts as I share the things that make me so happy. It's too bad I can't attach this bubbly sense of euphoria that others can't see or feel -- it might make you light-headed anyway. The baldness is not contagious :)
So, I have had a harsh lesson. No matter how grand your accomplishment might be in your own brain, others just aren't going to see it that way, no matter how loud you crow, nor how high the roof-top nor how bald your head. They are still gonna tell you to get down from there before you hurt yourself.
Okay. I'm down. Now, please tell you have more to say than 'cute'. Cute is for babies and puppies and kittehs. Cute is not what I want to hear after I've spent weeks ....WEEKS.... creating something I'm very proud of.
My daughter tells me this is the most I can hope for. Cute is THE ultimate compliment -- especially when partnered with an exclamation point. I don't own a cell phone and she informed me that giving an exclamation point took more effort than just a typed comment. After this discussion (yes -- she is still dragging me into the 21st century and I am still kicking and screaming) I came to the conclusion that getting anything more than a heart or a fisted thumb was probably equivalent to shouting from a rooftop.
Which brings me to think about what this generation is truly missing. Eight track tapes, typewriter ribbons, and imagination. When was the last time you made mud pies or built a playhouse from boards and cinder-blocks?? Even hide-and-seek is losing popularity these days. And a puppet show?? Do you know how to make a sock puppet??
I do. And I don't really mind if your form of flattery is imitation or if the most accomplished review you can make is to say "Cute" .. just don't forget the exclamation point. And don't expect me to come down from the roof any time soon.
I like the view from here!! Exclamation Point!!!!!!!
I, too, am guilty of being a copycat because some folks just come up with great ideas and I can't really improve on them. I can customize, but not improve. I can complain about the parts I don't like, but that probably wouldn't result in an improvement for anyone but me.
And when folks think you've done a good thing but you think it's G-R-E-A-T!! then what?? You want to shout it from a rooftop but everyone is just going to stare at you and tell you to get down from there before you hurt yourself. Personally, I like the rarefied atmosphere at high altitudes :)
I put a lot of thought, effort - blood, sweat and tears - into some of my creations. Others are effortless and seem to come into existence full grown. No matter how, they all give me a sense of satisfaction, of a job well done, a sense of completeness and accomplishment. (Yes, please ignore the bald spots. The doctor said my hair will grow back if I quit pulling it out!!)
It is this feeling I should strive to keep in the forefront of my thoughts as I share the things that make me so happy. It's too bad I can't attach this bubbly sense of euphoria that others can't see or feel -- it might make you light-headed anyway. The baldness is not contagious :)
So, I have had a harsh lesson. No matter how grand your accomplishment might be in your own brain, others just aren't going to see it that way, no matter how loud you crow, nor how high the roof-top nor how bald your head. They are still gonna tell you to get down from there before you hurt yourself.
Okay. I'm down. Now, please tell you have more to say than 'cute'. Cute is for babies and puppies and kittehs. Cute is not what I want to hear after I've spent weeks ....WEEKS.... creating something I'm very proud of.
My daughter tells me this is the most I can hope for. Cute is THE ultimate compliment -- especially when partnered with an exclamation point. I don't own a cell phone and she informed me that giving an exclamation point took more effort than just a typed comment. After this discussion (yes -- she is still dragging me into the 21st century and I am still kicking and screaming) I came to the conclusion that getting anything more than a heart or a fisted thumb was probably equivalent to shouting from a rooftop.
Which brings me to think about what this generation is truly missing. Eight track tapes, typewriter ribbons, and imagination. When was the last time you made mud pies or built a playhouse from boards and cinder-blocks?? Even hide-and-seek is losing popularity these days. And a puppet show?? Do you know how to make a sock puppet??
I do. And I don't really mind if your form of flattery is imitation or if the most accomplished review you can make is to say "Cute" .. just don't forget the exclamation point. And don't expect me to come down from the roof any time soon.
I like the view from here!! Exclamation Point!!!!!!!
 |
| Bubbly Euphoria |
Friday, September 9, 2016
A Tale of Fern Village
Good morning all.....
I love sayin' that knowin' that I'm mostly talkin' to myself here. Ah, well, ya know sometimes the written word can help us put our thoughts in order.
I've been a bit AWOL (true to form, ya know) but I have been busy. Doing what?? you ask.
Growing roots to my computer chair. Apparently this is necessary if one wants to have an online presence. It's no wonder our younger generation has the phone attached to themselves somehow. It's all just a bit much for me. I come from the generation of 'party lines' that did not involve a political candidate and computers a big as houses that had to have holey/holy/wholly??? cards to work. I always wondered about the folks who had to make those cards. Bet they stood in line a long time to get that job.
That's right on par with the little fellows who have to put the stickers on fruit and stamp the em's on M&M's. :) There are harder jobs in the world than trying to sell your own imagination.
But, in case some random stranger happens this way or in case one of you would actually like to go have a look, I have posted a photo book of my latest imaginations on Shutterfly and you can go have a 'look-see'.
https://singingswancreations.shutterfly.com/
The Shutterfly site is easy enough to navigate, especially for those of you who know what you're doing ... but all you have to do is find the words 'photo book' and click. Then you can view the book in all it glory.
But can I just tell you how blond I felt when the first person to look at this pointed out to me that I didn't put my name on it anywhere. I sign my art always, even silly doodles, but I totally forgot, in the excitement of getting this project finished, to sign my name on it --- anywhere. How foolish is that??? But, I have crowed loud enough and patted my own back long enough that ya'll ought to have it figured out by now that Gracie and Peabody live in my braincase. Mine!!
And sometimes the racket those folks in Fern Village make can be overwhelming. And Grace will NOT be quiet sometimes until the story is written. Bossy cat.
I love sayin' that knowin' that I'm mostly talkin' to myself here. Ah, well, ya know sometimes the written word can help us put our thoughts in order.
I've been a bit AWOL (true to form, ya know) but I have been busy. Doing what?? you ask.
Growing roots to my computer chair. Apparently this is necessary if one wants to have an online presence. It's no wonder our younger generation has the phone attached to themselves somehow. It's all just a bit much for me. I come from the generation of 'party lines' that did not involve a political candidate and computers a big as houses that had to have holey/holy/wholly??? cards to work. I always wondered about the folks who had to make those cards. Bet they stood in line a long time to get that job.
That's right on par with the little fellows who have to put the stickers on fruit and stamp the em's on M&M's. :) There are harder jobs in the world than trying to sell your own imagination.
But, in case some random stranger happens this way or in case one of you would actually like to go have a look, I have posted a photo book of my latest imaginations on Shutterfly and you can go have a 'look-see'.
https://singingswancreations.shutterfly.com/
The Shutterfly site is easy enough to navigate, especially for those of you who know what you're doing ... but all you have to do is find the words 'photo book' and click. Then you can view the book in all it glory.
But can I just tell you how blond I felt when the first person to look at this pointed out to me that I didn't put my name on it anywhere. I sign my art always, even silly doodles, but I totally forgot, in the excitement of getting this project finished, to sign my name on it --- anywhere. How foolish is that??? But, I have crowed loud enough and patted my own back long enough that ya'll ought to have it figured out by now that Gracie and Peabody live in my braincase. Mine!!
Monday, July 25, 2016
On Aging.... Again
There's a reason old folks get dementia --- it's so we don't have to learn anything else in this lifetime.
I graduated from my schoolin' years ago and it makes me mad that every time I want to do something with a computer or on-line ... I have to study and learn something new.
Now, there are those that would tell you that this is a good thing and keeps the brain cells sharp and cognitive and all, but let me tell ya, it doesn't do a thing for your hairstyle. But!! It could be the reason that "bed-hair" and "fresh-out-of-the-shower" hairstyles are so popular these days. And it does get me out of having to comb my hair every day - just whip it up into a tangled knot with a clippie and nobody knows I have been in tears from the frustration of learning code or how to navigate a dashboard page. I look normal and not dememted.
Well, that crazy look in the eye might give it away ... and the pacing and cursing about odd subjects in a foreign language. And the bald spots on my head a clippie can't cure. But when you see me walking past with a little cloud of &^%)(&%?>^%$%^& and #***@@***## floating over my head you'll know not to approach without a cup of coffee in hand or a net. Chair and a whip is a little drastic, but depending on how demented and frustrated the study session has left me today, you might wanna keep them handy.
I did read an article this morning that says I am not anti-social, I am uber smart and for this reason I am happy in my own skin and don't always need to seek companionship or excitement with friends. The article didn't say anything about how to make others understand that it's my intelligence and not my dementia that makes me wander around with a far-away look on my face and muttering under my breath about Faeries and Little People. Or how to let them know that I need to be rescued from the characters scurrying through my thoughts. They have some interesting conversations that only I am privy to, but when I try to bring up the same subjects with my human 'right-here-right-now' friends, they aren't interested.
Little do they know. The voices in my head carry on better conversations than they do!!!!!! But--(they don't know code) and if I'm so darned smart, then why doesn't this stuff just blosssom in my brain?? I could dream it into existence there and it could be a reality here, but life doesn't work that way. Sleeping on the book does not inmpart knowledge to the brain so I suppose sleeping on a laptop will not teach me to write code either. Drat!!!!!!!!
I graduated from my schoolin' years ago and it makes me mad that every time I want to do something with a computer or on-line ... I have to study and learn something new.
Now, there are those that would tell you that this is a good thing and keeps the brain cells sharp and cognitive and all, but let me tell ya, it doesn't do a thing for your hairstyle. But!! It could be the reason that "bed-hair" and "fresh-out-of-the-shower" hairstyles are so popular these days. And it does get me out of having to comb my hair every day - just whip it up into a tangled knot with a clippie and nobody knows I have been in tears from the frustration of learning code or how to navigate a dashboard page. I look normal and not dememted.
Well, that crazy look in the eye might give it away ... and the pacing and cursing about odd subjects in a foreign language. And the bald spots on my head a clippie can't cure. But when you see me walking past with a little cloud of &^%)(&%?>^%$%^& and #***@@***## floating over my head you'll know not to approach without a cup of coffee in hand or a net. Chair and a whip is a little drastic, but depending on how demented and frustrated the study session has left me today, you might wanna keep them handy.
I did read an article this morning that says I am not anti-social, I am uber smart and for this reason I am happy in my own skin and don't always need to seek companionship or excitement with friends. The article didn't say anything about how to make others understand that it's my intelligence and not my dementia that makes me wander around with a far-away look on my face and muttering under my breath about Faeries and Little People. Or how to let them know that I need to be rescued from the characters scurrying through my thoughts. They have some interesting conversations that only I am privy to, but when I try to bring up the same subjects with my human 'right-here-right-now' friends, they aren't interested.
Little do they know. The voices in my head carry on better conversations than they do!!!!!! But--(they don't know code) and if I'm so darned smart, then why doesn't this stuff just blosssom in my brain?? I could dream it into existence there and it could be a reality here, but life doesn't work that way. Sleeping on the book does not inmpart knowledge to the brain so I suppose sleeping on a laptop will not teach me to write code either. Drat!!!!!!!!
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