Reflection

Yesterday morning we had some grocery shopping to do. I was in the frozen section and caught my reflection in the glass door and it made me sad. Some days I forget I'm as old as I am for a moment and then I see myself. That whole "growing old gracefully" is BS. 

It's normal to feel down sometimes. We're allowed to have our moments of grief, sadness, anger, or whatever you're feeling in any given moment. Just don't stay in that darkness. You deserve better than that! It's also okay to tell someone who quips 'it's better than the alternative' to fuck all the way off. I hate those people.

Where Are They Now?

Have you ever been sitting doing nothing much and suddenly thought "Huh. I wonder what such-and-who is doing?" In this age of the internet you can do a search and possibly find out. Many times the choices involve obituaries as you get older. Sometimes you're not surprised and other times it can be sad knowledge that darkens the rest of your day. Of course you may find them on Facebook or other locations and you get to see a familiar face smile back though now older.

I've been looking for one childhood friend every-so-often for several years. I don't know if I would contact her if I found her, but I would love to see her smile.

John Farnham

I've been keeping up on John Farnham's surgery. He was Little River Band's lead singer from 1982-86. If you haven't heard he had a marathon 11 1/2 hour surgery on 8/23 to remove a cancerous tumor from his mouth and jaw reconstruction as they had to remove part of his jaw. Today the hospital reports he's awake and in stable condition. 

I just wanted to send healing energy and hope for a speedy recovery. 💚

Reminiscing

I took this picture several years ago. Notice the chunk out of it's wing, yet it still flew away.

Someone may wonder about how my "Going Fangirl" post helps with getting older? Beats me! I mean, this blog is just the ramblings from a "mature woman".

Although... I have noticed my thoughts turning backwards more than it did when I was younger. I even gave it a Google and now I have "Reminiscing" by the Little River Band stuck in my head. Granted, it's a good song and does kinda fit this subject.

It's perfectly fine to think of the past. It's your choices of thoughts that matters. To throw yourself a pity-party and roll around in bitter thought-mud doesn't help unless it also includes remembering how you handled it to have a positive outcome. Not just "I survived" but steps you took then that can help you improve your now. If all you're doing is wallowing in the muck then please try to stop the self torture. It can effect your mental and physical health in the now. I found out anger can increase inflammation, which is associated with illnesses like heart disease, arthritis and cancer, though mostly in those 80 and older. That's from The American Psychological Association.

On the flip side, stop with the "my childhood was perfect because I drank out of a hose and you younger hooligans suck" posts and attitude! What was perfect was not having bills to worry about because you were a KID, having a young body that didn't creak, pop, and hurt all the time, and not having to fix your own and everyone elses meals (which is a personal gripe of mine. My son will roll his eyes when I go off on a rant of how when I was in my twenties I'd eat a can of green beans for dinner and it wasn't necessary to cook full blown meals and WHY DO Y'ALL NEED TO EAT EVERY DAY! Go graze in the kitchen your own damn self! Honestly he's good at that... Oops  Off topic.) But do you honestly think your parents saw your "good ole' days" as their good ole' days? Of course not! 

Thinking back on happy memories, I feel and science agrees, can naturally boost Dopamine and Serotonin. Just don't mentally move there. Like a TV show you return to the present afterwards.

You know how they say your life flashes before your eyes before you die? Isn't this similar? I mean the death part is decades away knock-on-wood, but we begin to ask ourselves "did my life matter in the big scheme of things? Did I make a difference in other's lives? Was I a good person?" Just because we didn't cure cancer doesn't mean our existence wasn't important. 

What did I learn?

I had just enough in my Amazon gift card balance to get Little River Band's Greatest Hits! Yeah!

But seriously, I can check a lot of these boxes of what not to do. I've "won" arguments with a brilliant comeback against someone who's been dead for a decade or more. There are times when anger is needed. Like letting someone irl know you're angry instead of holding it in, or if that anger leads to activism, but to look backwards and be angry at things you can't change can be harmful. One of the good things that has come from the Pandemic is that you can seek help right on your phone. I'm not going to recommend any specific place, but there is NOTHING WRONG with saying "I need help", okay? Okay!

Going Fangirl

I took this picture at a motel I used to work at. Originally I captioned it "If he doesn't stop staring at me I'm gonna cut him"

I've met a few famous individuals in my life. IMO these are the highlights:

I met and got a photo with Mr. Greenjeans and the puppet Mr. Moose from Captain Kangaroo when I was 7-8 years old. The photo is nowhere to be found now.

This one is wild! When I was 13 these two guys performed at my Junior High. I got their autographs and later discovered one of them became my coworker at the ABC affiliate in Springfield, MO 12ish years later. Wayne Milnes would play Sammy B. Goode and I would be his Audio Technician. He was a busy man through his life and worked all over Branson, MO including Silver Dollar City where we also crossed paths when I was 15 when he played skits as the judge. I had a photo but lost that one in the memento box crime I'll talk about in a bit. He was an incredibly talented man and a great guy may he rest in peace.

While at the same TV station (KSPR) I got to put a microphone on John Goodman and lightly chat with him. He was in town for a telethon. The best part is this put me 2 degrees from Kevin Bacon in the game Six Degrees from Kevin Bacon! They've been in 5 movies together.

Now, at this point I've led you to my "fan girl" moment. After KSPR-TV, I went back to radio. This would have been around 1990. The station, KLTQ (Q-96) FM sponsored a concert with singers/bands from the 60's and 70's. The MC was Wolfman Jack from movies (does American Graffiti ring a bell?) and for me most importantly the late night TV show "The Midnight Special" that was broadcast through my teen years. The GM of the station asked me if I wanted to meet him. I said sure, and the moment I saw him just sitting in a chair relaxing before the show this SQUEAL rose out of my throat and I started shaking. WOLFMAN JACK WAS RIGHT THERE! WOLFMAN JACK! RIGHT THERE! SITTING IN A CHAIR AND NOW LOOKING SLIGHTLY ALARMED... I tried to calm down and asked him to sign the T-shirt in my hands which he did. But the BAD part is every time I've mentioned this no one seems to understand. Actually I was a bit surprised at my reaction but I'm not the least bit ashamed at going total fan girl. It was Wolf-freaking-man-OMG-JACK! The bad part is I didn't get a photo of us together to lose later. Damn it! But cheer up! I did lose the T-shirt. Actually it was stolen out of a U-Haul when I was packing to move by myself across town. The whole box of demo tapes, mementos that included my autograph book from Junior High, my picture of Wayne as the judge at SDC, and my music cassette collection swiped out of the back. People suck, except Wolfman Jack. Howl for the Wolfman!

Funeral Playlist

About a year ago I heard a beautiful song on a local LP (low power) blues/jazz radio station. It was a song by Anthony Gomes titled "Darkest Before the Dawn". I highly recommend listening. It's absolutely beautiful! But I bring this up because I had a thought I had never had in my life before as the music washed over my soul:

"I want this played at my funeral". 

Such a weird thing to think yet there it was. I'm healthy, no physical problems to worry me, and beyond an occasional fleeting idea of maybe I should decide where I want to be buried (though definitely cremation as I'm claustrophobic) I really haven't planned anything.

I called my best friend and asked her if this had ever happened to her. She got very animated and began telling me about her "funeral playlist" that she had had for years. Then she rattled off the top ten songs. You have to understand she has never shied away from the subject of death. She has worked in nursing homes and funeral homes at different points in her life. She would volunteer to sit with people at the nursing home in their last hours so they wouldn't be alone in the end. She has told me it's a peaceful experience. She's also a very organized person. She has her plot bought and has had it paid for since her 30's.

Then there's me who has one song and the idea of cremation. Am I supposed to be on this thing? Should I have this wrapped up with a bow by now? My parents did. My brother has already asked me if I minded he take the last space at our paternal family plot in our home town. Of course I said yes and he put his marker in place. 

I mean, of course I've had fleeting thoughts through the years. For a time I wanted to have an extended vacation after death at a Body Farm. I discovered the list of future volunteers is longer than needed. I'm also an organ donor and if by chance parts of me can go on to help others I would be turned down for not only a Body Farm but it would make me useless for a medical school as well. That makes it hard to go that route.

I have thought of a few things in moments of entertainment. I don't want a preacher acting like he knows me or even in attendance. No church music, and especially they better not play Green Green Grass of Home which seems to be a go-to at every damn funeral in my family. Ick. I would like an actor from the local theater to act like a preacher-of-sorts. I would love to have someone do their version of Jim Ignatowski (actor Christopher Lloyd) from the comedy series Taxi. Just a brainfried rambling monologue would be wonderful, but no one other than BHP and our son could know it's a performance. I don't see it really happening, but my funeral would be talked about for YEARS! lol

I don't like the whole funeral thing to tell you the truth. It's expensive and my family would have to put up with extended family who suddenly show up. I think I'd rather my ashes be added to compost and used to grow a tree in a national forest or wherever. Then I can haunt hikers. Maybe even become an Urban Legend. The Bitchy Ghost of the (insert name of forest). 

Touché

Two days ago I opened my email and saw one from a newspaper 2,000 miles from me! I got a bit hot and yelled "Why am I getting this!?" I opened it to unsubscribe, and immediately saw a recipe for Spiced Peach Pie. 

My grandma made delicious spiced peaches! She canned them, and the heady taste of cinnamon and clove in a sweet-pickled syrup was pure ambrosia!

Nodding, I said (yes aloud, because I talk to emails too) "Well played newspaper from across the country, well played." and didn't unsubscribe. They won this round. Touché.

Unless that Spiced Peach Pie sucks. 

The photo is my own. I bought a case of "canning peaches" prepandemic. They weren't pretty, but they made a great ice cream topper/peach cobbler filling I froze for the then future. I didn't inherit the canning gene, but our small deep freezer is very handy. 

Why? Chicken Thigh!

Speaking of thighs, mine disappeared. No abracadabra needed. Just one day I glanced in the mirror and I noticed I had bird legs! Now, I was one of those people who made swooshing noises if I dared to wear corduroy back when it was in style. Now I'd have no swooshing. If it were in style. But thankfully it's not and don't you DARE say it's acceptable! Because LA-LA-LA I CAN'T HEAR YOU! Just ick.

I've read it's "normal" to lose muscle and fat in your arms and legs as you age. It's also essential to eat, for women, 46 grams of protein a day. The problem is as I've aged I don't want meat, or as much as I did. If I can eat half the portion on my plate I'm doing good, but taking in the size of American portions it's actually pretty close to the needed amount? Maybe? I don't know. I'm new to this at the moment. Remember I've mentioned in the past to NEVER take my advice. Just don't.

Good news is my calves still look pretty good. They're smaller, but still nice enough. I've always liked my calves, so I'm happy about that.

What have I learned? 

I'd have to eat THIRTEEN TABLESPOONS of peanut butter to get 45 grams of fat. That's just shy of a cup, or about 24 peanut butter cookies. I'm not going to look up the calories. That would be mean.

(fyi: The picture is some leg quarters BHP smoked. They were delicious!)

There I Am!

 

Back in my 30's I decided I wanted to grow my hair out. I had kept short cuts since High School, and thought (I guess) it would be fun, or sexy, or who knows what was rattling around in my head. After several false starts including a disaster trip to a beautician after mine moved to Colorado that could only be fixed by going extremely short, I finally had hair down my back. Which I almost always kept in a messy bun at the nap of my neck. 

My son, who was born not quite two weeks before my 41st birthday, had never seen me with short hair. I just didn't think about it. I quit dying it and my natural hair is dark while my skin is fair and they never really matched. The dark hair made me look sick, but life was busy so I just didn't think about it.

Zoom ahead 20+ years. My hair, already beginning to thin really fell out after I got Covid in 2020 before there was a vaccine. My "oh, well" became "OMG! Ick!" Then, after thinking on it and getting a nudge from b/h/p (boyfriend/husband/partner for those out of the loop) I made the appointment and decided on a "Choppy Bob" before even showing up. The beautician, who I loved, assured me it was a great cut for me and helped me remember how to care for a short 'do. I had 11 inches cut off! I plan to donate it, but it's too short for some places. For the time being it's stored safely. I take after my maternal grandmother. She passed at 79 and was still salt and pepper, though more salt than pepper. So at 60 I have very little grey hair on my head. On my head. Do I have grey eyelashes? Yes. Grey pubes? My first grey hair was there. It's like a warped Dorian Gray. Instead of an aging painting in the attic, I'm storing my grey hair mostly in my "basement".

Anyway, I got home feeling pretty good. I even stopped and bought hair color, medium blonde, and used it immediately. That night while getting ready for bed I was washing my face. It was covered in suds, and I looked up in the mirror. With the suds covering all the wrinkles, the face looking back was that young woman I used to be! I gasped and blurted out "There I am!" It was like meeting a dear friend you haven't seen in decades and are shocked yet totally overjoyed. My heart raced and my eyes teared up. I missed her. I wasn't able to repeat that moment, though of course I tried the next night, but to have experienced it that once changed something inside me. I don't know if I can explain it. It flipped a switch I guess? I'm happier knowing "she's" not really gone, because I AM her. 

What I learned:

Maybe mirrors aren't my enemy after all. 

And maybe I'm ready to love my wrinkled, saggy, flawed self. Sure, it won't be easy, but I'm ready. As long as naps are provided.

Boyfriend/Husband/Partner?

I've been with the same man for 23 years. We've lived together for 18 of those years and yet to this day I haven't settled on how to address him to others. I've bounced between boyfriend or husband. My state, Missouri, doesn't recognize common law marriages, so kind of as an FU to "The Man" I wouldn't initially use husband. Now, I've read if we were willing to move to a state that recognizes common law and then move back after a set amount of time, our state would have no problem with the term. Weird hu?!  That's what happens when you have a state full of red yahoos. 

So anyway, lately I've decided partner isn't so bad, so I've add that to my list of descriptions. Somewhere out there is a person who thinks I'm a hussy and have both a husband and a boyfriend and I'm fine with that. I don't mind being spicy in someone stranger's mind. 

My boyfriend/husband/partner just calls me his wife. No muss no fuss. I think too much on things I guess, but that's just who I am.

I'll have to skip the "what have I learned" part. I'm even more confused today than I was 23 years ago.