| Wow, it's been a while. So much has happened. Life is busy and good. Tim was home for a month and J.T. came home every weekend so our little family could be together. We sampled new beers together, played "Clue", poker, "Yahtzee" and our fav...."Zombies"! Good times...for sure...
John and I are working on the basement remodel. We installed a laminate floor all by ourselves...well, a bit of guidance from a friend, but mostly by ourselves. We're getting things done in anticipation of spring. Lots of fish to catch and turkeys to chase. The next couple of months will be dedicated to playing in the out of doors.
I read this this morning and it made me smile.
As Old As You Feel
Jill Waldbieser
I’m not 29 today. Not 29 and 3 days, not even close. Today I’m 23.
No, I haven’t decided to start lying about my age. If you want to do
that, you have to start before your kids learn how to count; I caught
onto that trick too late, and no amount of brainwashing will dissuade
my 8-year-old stepdaughter from announcing my real age to the world
now.
The thing is, I don’t have to lie. Age is really a fluid thing.
It’s always changing. For example, in the past year I’ve aged
exceptionally fast because I changed jobs (plus 2 years), bought my
first house (plus 5 years), got married (on my wedding day I was 19,
but overall marriage has added 3 years—so far) and became a stepmother
(plus 10 years), gutted my first house (plus 4 years) and moved in with
my in-laws (plus 5,000 years).
You know what I mean—everyone has an age
in their mind that they’ll be forever. My standby is 23. I was in great
shape, a great relationship, out on my own and excited about
everything. So now all good days are 23. I’m 23 just about all summer
long. I’m more like 65 in the winter. When I’m picking out bathroom
tile with my husband, I’m 99. (If science ever needs to study
accelerated aging, they can watch me try to decorate with Joe. The
report would be full of notes like, Sudden appearance of crow’s feet noted when the subject of ceramic versus porcelain was broached.)
Here’s my favorite quote on the subject, written by Robert Heinlein in Stranger in a Strange Land:
"Anyone
can see a pretty girl. An artist can look at a pretty girl and see the
old woman she will become. A better artist can look at an old woman and
see the pretty girl she used to be. A great artist can look at an old
woman, portray her exactly as she is...and force the viewer to see the
pretty girl she used to be...more than that, he can make anyone see
that this lovely young girl is still alive, prisoned inside her ruined
body. He can make you feel the quiet, endless tragedy that there was
never a girl born who ever grew older than eighteen in her heart...no
matter what the merciless hours have done.
(just for reading that, minus 11 years)
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