Who You Calling Old?

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"You can tell we're getting old!" quipped the daughter of a friend (and a member of the youth group way back when I was the leader) after she and her husband spent a day hopping from one garden center to another.

I eyed her strong, willowy, not-quite-30 body, that rather unjustly, is not yet even showing signs of being pregnant and wondered.  If succumbing to the siren call of suburban landscaping marks a person as "old,"  what on Earth does that make me??

Hubby and I have drifted into the territory of going together to have blood work done at the hospital and then (as if that weren't bad enough) heading to the local diner for breakfast where we bicker over the menu.  I comfort myself with the knowledge that we haven't slipped into blue hair and velcro sneakers.  Yet.

What I want to know is when the heck did this happen?  I do know how old I am....still on the "good" side of 50, but I can see the other side from here and I don't even have to stand on my tippy-toes.  Yet, the mirror catches me by surprise.  Every. Single. Time.

Plodding into the bathroom each morning I expect to look into the mirror and see the fresh-faced, athletic, but slightly curvy 20-year-old I was when I got married looking back at me.  What I find instead is that she moved a long time ago and left no forwarding address.  The new woman staring back at me has a lot going for her, but it's going to take her a while to get it going.  Maybe you could check back around noon?

She peers at me through eyes that are simultaneously puffy, saggy, and wrinkly....and near-sighted because she left her glasses on the stand by the bed.  One eyebrow is turning gray.  Yes, only one.  Her chin has a twin and it sprouts hair like a mountain goat!  Her freckles have multiplied exponentially thanks to years of sun worship before anyone ever heard of SPF.  The gray in her hair defies all efforts to hide it and reappears two days after a $120 dye job.  Her muscles ache, her joints pop, and her ankles swell.  When she does remember to grab her glasses, they're bifocals.  To add insult to injury, when she turns on the radio for some music to cheer herself up....she has to tune in the OLDIES station to find her favorite songs.

As I stare at her in confusion (and maybe a bit of horror) she just nods and smiles like she knows something I don't.  Like maybe even though she isn't what anyone is ever going to call a hottie again, and despite all the aches and pains and inconveniences, that just maybe the best stuff is still waiting.

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glitter-graphics.com

Amber of Airing My Dirty Laundry, One Sock at a Time invites us, each Tuesday to join her in Hey, It's Okay Tuesday!  The idea, which she borrowed from Glamour Magazine, is to celebrate our little "quirks."

Hey, It's Okay....

...to have put the exercise equipment you bought at a garage sale outside under the Shadynook, because suuuuurrrrrre you're going to exercise in the backyard where your mom, the neighbors, God, and everyone else can watch for their amusement.

...to be mad at your husband for being mad at you for putting corn husks down the garbage disposal.  How were you supposed to know they'd turn into all these stringy fibers and gum the thing up?

...to carry on as bad as the kids on the bus when one of them lets fly with a big old stinker that makes everyone's eyes water.

...to encourage your dog to do something bad because it's so darn cute.

...to not know if you're just experiencing end of the year burnout or if you really don't like your job any more.

...to be more than ready to pack your bags and leave everyone and everything far behind.

Saturday Share

I was just looking at my links, which also tell me when the last post was put up on my favorite blogs....looks like I'm not the only one dropping the ball this week.  Several of you are missing in action.

It is one gorgemous day here in southwestern Pennsylvania.....lots and lots of sunshine and we've just about made it to the predicted high of 70 already.  Little Miss Daisy has been perched on the arm of the sofa all morning driving me batty with her never ending yapping at the neighbors who are working in their yard.  I so wish they'd come over here and work some of their magic because their yard looks like something straight out of a magazine....and mine looks like the land time forgot.

Just me and the dogs today.  Tim is working.  Yea! for overtime.  Megan is working and will be nearly every day through the busy season at the garden center.  Lots of money and too busy to spend it...a good combination for her.  I was supposed to go to a gun bash, but the friends we were going to go with had to take their vacation due to some mix-up with the scheduling of their timeshare.  The people running the gun bash can just call me if our tickets hit.  I'm not going there to sit by myself all day.

Dracula, Edward and the rest of the blood-suckers can move over.  I went for blood work this morning and they collected 21 vials!  Good grief.  Do I look pale to you?  The neurologist ordered some major lab work so I hope they find some answers.  In the meantime, I have to say I like the pill he has me taking.  I don't know the name without looking, but it's an anti-seizure med.  It does seem to have calmed the tingling down and maybe it's just me, but I think it's giving me more energy and has me feeling less brain fog than I have in a long, long time.

I have lots I want to get done now that I've finally shaken off the headache I had all morning so here's the Saturday Shares for the week.  Enjoy!

• Dancing in Our Kitchens is a blog devoted to music and dancing and the pure joy of both.
• The Book Club Network, Inc. is all about books all the time.  I just got introduced to it today so I can't tell you a lot, but I can tell you it looks like there is enough there to keep me busy for months!
• Swim suit season is upon us....can you hear the collective groan echoing from women the world over?  I came across this link to Carrie Underwood's leg workout, but it would be so much more helpful if they invented a cream that you rub on at night and wake up looking like Carrie in the morning.
• Anyone who knows me, knows I CANNOT KNIT.  Heaven knows I have tried.  I want to knit.  I am envious of those who do.  It looks so relaxing when you watch a skilled knitter, but for me it is nothing but stress.  I have even had "remedial" lessons from the older ladies at work.  I just don't seem to be able to get my fingers to do what they are supposed to.  Last year my mom taught me to knit hats using round plastic looms.  Hats because Mom is in an organization that knits hats for chemo patients, premature babies, and anyone else that needs them.  They also knit afghans for premies, scarves for soldiers, lap robes for people in nursing homes, etc.  Mom's been written up in the paper more than once for it.  I do okay at the hats.  The best thing with the looms is there is no counting stitches....only measuring of length.  I've even bought some oval-shaped looms that promise to help me create shawls and bags among other things.  A friend introduced me to Authentic Knitting Boards.  They go so far beyond the ones I bought at Wal-Mart.  If you want to knit but are "challenged" like me, this might be the answer for you!
• And for those of you who wonder why I as a semi-rational adult woman am such a huge fan of Duck Dynasty's Robertson clan.....here's patriarch Phil delivering a powerful sermon.

Lastly, here's the Pinterest pin of the week:

Have a wonderful weekend and may God bless

and keep you safe till we meet again.