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.

Drawing A Line

Consider this is an imaginary line I'm drawing in imaginary sand. 

I turned 60 this year, but since I missed the majority of being in my 50's in this blog I'm going to make a list of the highlights and lowlights and use my imperfect memory as well as my imperfect "wisdom" to go over things from the magical place called hindsight.

I'll also complain, of course. Today is a perfect day to complain about! I mean I woke up refreshed and feeling good. I was even chuckling about a weird dream I can't remember now. THEN I HAD TO LEAVE THE HOUSE! Ugh! Traffic was twice as bad as usual, and when I got back home from picking my partner and our son up from their 3rd shift jobs as well as going to the grocery store there was nothing to eat for breakfast. I settled on a bowl of frosted cornflakes and that's when I realized some JERK had ate all four perfectly ripe bananas I had bought yesterday! In one day! Granted that jerk was me (they were SO GOOD!) but still I'm going to complain because I can. Seriously those bananas were the most perfectly sweet brown freckled bananas I've had in a long time. I mean, I didn't eat them in one sitting. I had two for breakfast with a cold glass of buttermilk (it's something I learned from my mom. A sweet/sour combo that's a comfort food for me.) Then I didn't eat the other two until 8pm. If I didn't have to leave the house I'd go buy another bunch. Though banana pudding sounds pretty darn good... I'll think on it.

So that's my day and it's only 9:45am

What did I learn?

I guess that I missed blogging. Even this short entry makes me feel pretty darn good.

Tah-tah for now.

Hello Stranger!

Yes, I'm a bad girl for not posting in *looks at watch* seven years and four months. Sorry. Really I am! I truly enjoy writing, it's just Life is a bag of something. Trash? Rocks? Just crap moments interspersed with laughter and naps.

I quit writing because my laptop quit working. I think. It might have been the house fire though. That was months of "crap moments", but I think I'll save that for a post all by itself.

I did reread many of my posts and I thought: "Hey! I'm pretty good! That was so funny OMG woman!! YOUR?! IT'S YOU'RE! How do I edit that embarrassment out of existence!? SITE?! NOOOO! SIGHT! SIGHT! what is wrong with you!" 

So, anyway, it's bedtime now. I promise to try and catch you up later.

What have I learned?

I've learned a lot in seven years! I hope? Well, one thing is Burger King's new ChickKing sandwich is okay. Popeyes is better IMO, though homemade beats them all even if my sous chef (our Pointer mix, Emrys) gets sprinkled with flour while waiting for the inevitable dropped chunks of whatever. 

Good night folks.

Changing Tides

I took this picture at Pomme de Terre lake near Elkton, Missouri. It's a little public beach at the end of a dirt road I love to visit.

 

 

 

The first few years of being officially an "old lady", and not a 'this is my old lady' lady as some men say, was full of a lot of despondency. There was a lot of eating what I shouldn't, and not taking care of myself because I was blue. How could I even wash my face if I didn't want to look at my reflection? My answer was I didn't! Yes, I washed it when I was taking a shower, but I just quit using face cleaners and my once much loved Buf-Puf. I was lucky I still used deodorant! (Actually everyone around me was lucky on that one!) I didn't shave my legs as much as I should have either. I was a mess!

Sure, I was getting by. I could get out of bed every day. I could dress myself and take my son to school and his dad to work as needed. I could feed my family mostly “normal” meals, and I could even joke about being old. The problem was something was off. It’s hard to explain because I didn’t know there was something…not right…in the old noggin, or maybe it was the heart? I guess you could say I was on “autopilot”. Things got done, but it was only at the most basic level. I did only enough to get by and keep my family from mutiny.

About a month ago I took a selfie of myself for something I was writing. For the umpteenth time I whined to myself because my eyebrows had faded to the point that they were almost nonexistent.  This had been bothering me for a few years, and I hated the way it looked! This time, though, I had an amazing idea that had NEVER occurred to me before! I could dye them darker! Yes, this was not a new advanced idea in beauty. Others have dyed their eyebrows for decades, yet it had never occurred to me that I could too! I dye my hair, yet this was a moment when I should have heard trumpets play!

I did dye them and the change in how I felt was amazing! But more important, the eyebrows lead to buying a Buf-Puf and facial cleanser. Then the Buf-Puf led to cutting my intake of diet soft drinks and replacing it with water with a slice of lemon, and that steered me to wanting to eat less junk! This all happened within a months’ time, so the results aren’t noticeable on the outside just yet, but my heart and soul feel free and light as a bird!

Now I feel like I walked out from behind a dark veil to discover unfiltered sunshine for the first time in I honestly don’t know how long. My heart has grown because it’s full of happiness again, and I have rediscovered myself.

 

 

Hey! You out there! Yes, you, the one reading this. Don't give up! We will get through this together! It DOES get better!

Journey of Self Discovery

I was struck by a desire to write a new post for this blog. Maybe "need" would be a better word. I quit writing here to devote my time to a site that actually makes me money, but this was my first blog, and it’s the one I will never abandon.  It means everything to me because it gave me purpose when I needed it most!

I also can’t abandon the ones who come here to find a way through their own

excursion at turning 50. Do I have all the answers? No. But I do have experience at this whole ‘getting passed this landmark Birthday’.

If you sailed right past the big five-oh with barely a blink of the eye, go read someone else. But before you leave I want to ask you to make me a promise. If you have a friend who ISN’T able to enter their 50’s with rainbows coming out their butt, don’t poo-poo their pain. Don’t brush their tears off your shoulder when they come to you for help. This also goes out to the ones who are older and younger than 50. BE A FRIEND! At the very least keep your mouth shut and just give them a hug! Is that too much to ask?

Now that the happy people have moved on to read something else, we can get down to business. I will admit some that you will read in my blog is just my babbling about this and that, but it does all boil down to a few things I discovered and want to pass on to you:

• Cry if you need to. You have entered a sad moment. You need to mourn your lost youth. Trust me, it helps to get all that pain out. So cry, throw a tantrum, just whatever you need to do to get it out. Holding it in can cause illness, and that’s the last thing we need! If it embarrasses you, find somewhere private, or go to a gym and punch one of those bags boxers use. Better yet get in the ring and take a few punches at an actual person! They’re paid to get punched! Yea! I wish I had done that! I really wanted to punch someone when I turned 50. Wish I had thought of that then!
• Comfort yourself. It doesn’t even need to be food, though that’s what I chose for the first week. Get a manicure or pedicure, get your hair cut, or buy yourself a pretty scarf. Treat yourself to anything that makes you feel happy or at least better.  
• I have become more vocal. I don’t have time for games. If something bothers me I say it bothers me. My boyfriend and son aren’t always happy with this, but I refuse to bottle it in and hurt my mind and body anymore! You don’t have to be mean about it, but you can’t believe how the weight on my shoulders has lessened! This one is also for your health and well being.
• Find something that brings you joy. For me it’s writing. It’s my bliss. Maybe I’ll never win national awards, but it soothes my soul and gives my brain a workout. So, discover your love! There’s no rush to find your bliss. You might even try different things before you find ‘It’. Once you do, though, be prepared that some people won’t ‘get it’. Brace yourself against those who will try to dissuade you. I know my boyfriend doesn’t get it. He can’t understand that I HAVE to write every single day! If I can’t write at least a little I feel jumpy the whole day and am out-of-sorts, which is why it takes an emergency to keep me from my keyboard.

I guess that’s it for now. I wish you a wonderful journey of self discovery!

Gray Hairs and All

I once saw a coworker in the bathroom cussing at her reflection. She had black hair and she had a black marker in her hand. She was separating a strand or strands of gray hair, pulling it above her head and using the marker to color it black. I remember standing afraid to move as this usually happy woman cussed at her reflection. She turned to me with a look of frustration on her face and said: "The hair color won't stay in! I'm going to see if this marker will hide these monsters!" (she didn't really say 'monsters') I don't know if it worked long term, but I feel her frustration!

Gray hair is something we all have to deal with. When you hit your 50's it seems to appear in more numbers every time you look in the mirror. I color my hair, but it doesn't help for long because those dang gray hairs throw the color off a few weeks after the application. I have to say I'm lucky that I wasn't one of the people who went prematurely gray. I had a friend that started going white at 30, and it was that "Skunk Stripe" right down the middle. I didn't notice my first gray hair until my mid 30's and they started appearing in a place only my doctor and I could see. Later, I noticed a white eyelash! No grey on the head, but a big fat eyelash! It was followed by friends, and now you can barely see what was once naturally long pretty lashes and have become almost invisible. I did finally start seeing pop ups on the head, mostly at the temples and "sideburns". And my grays have a need to be noticed so they curl up tight and stick out away from the head like they are waving at every passersby. It makes me look like a crazy lady who never brushes her hair as they won't obey any hair care product I've tried.

While I do color my hair now I will quit someday. There is a time you need to let the hair win the fight and let it shine. My maternal grandmother never colored her hair, but her naturally black hair produced the pretty white hair instead of the yellow-gray some are unlucky to have. I don't know the age, but when you start resembling a clown it's time to quit coloring and applying your own make-up. I hope my friends will let me know when that is. It is my friend's job to tell me when I have something in my teeth, toilet paper stuck on my shoe, or my dress tucked into my pantyhose. THAT is a true friend! I want mine to put their arm around me and say, 'Honey, it's time to quit.' I promise to return the favor.

And it's not just hair!  I had these big beautiful eyes that I got compliments on when I was younger, but now the brow skin is slowly melting down trying to hide them. I also had pouty lips that I guess developed a leak since the pout is gone and all that is left are thin lips framed with small fine wrinkles. I'll say right here I am not against plastic surgery. I can't afford it today, but if I had a lot of extra money just laying around I would be at the plastic surgeon's office yesterday. But if I do get the chance someday I don't want those fake high cheekbones I've seen on some older women. They just don't look real. What I would do is have my brow skin pulled back up to show-off my eyes again and get some fat sucked out of my waddle and pulled tight. And my jowls removed since I'm there but that's all. Maybe a little plump in my lips to hide the tiny wrinkles (since they have my fat sitting in a jar right there). And maybe my boobs lifted off my belly. And a tummy suck and tuck. Hair removal would be a good idea. But no more! No cheekbones!

I'll tell you, though, that sometimes when I look into the mirror I can still see that the young me is still there looking back. It's not every time, but when it does I can smile at my reflection and see beauty reflect back. But I know it's there every time! I know my reflection hasn't changed. My attitude towards that reflection has! I'm working at it, I hope someday I'll see beauty every time.




It's what I want to learn:

Acceptance.

Dreams

I had a dream the other night. I was sitting in the back of a car in the middle between my boyfriend and my college sweetheart. There was no jealousy or discomfort at the arrangement. Everyone was getting along just fine as we went down the road to I don't know where. The car was driven by one of my female cousins with her husband in the front passenger seat. I am not in daily or even yearly contact with her, though I did recently visit her mother, my Aunt, to say hello.

I wondered what the dream was telling me. I used to keep a dream journal years ago, but have since misplaced it as well as the interpretation book. I do believe there is no one book that covers dream interpretation for everyone. Like if a person dreams of an apple: To a minister or someone who is very religious, it would probably stand for temptation, while a person who owns an orchard would see the apple as money. I did have a book I bought on dream interpretation, but I went through it and any meaning that didn't fit me was covered in white-out and my own idea of what I felt it meant was put in it's place. By doing this ahead of time I was giving my mind the codes to follow in talking to me in my dreams. It was a long process, but at the time worth it.

I had been mulling over the dream for several days, and last night as I was drifting off to sleep the meaning popped in my head:

1. The car represents the physical world and body, which is 'driven' by my DNA (I.E. my cousin driving the car). That comes from the fact that I have been studying my DNA results pretty much on a daily basis. This says we aren't 'in control' (driving) what happens to our bodies.We can't 'decide' not to be 50.
2. Sitting between my past and present boyfriends was me: Past me was young, carefree and only had to worry about passing tests and what bar or party to go to Friday and Saturday nights. (She was also a size six!) Present me is coming to terms with being in my 50's with a child and a committed relationship in tow. She has to deal with bills, what to fix for dinner almost EVERY SINGLE NIGHT (hate that), dishes (hate that too), or basically the daily life of an average, definitely not rich or even close to it 21st century woman. 
3. The fact that these two sides were getting along just fine and I was okay with being the middle of a big-boy sandwich tells me I'm FINALLY coming to terms with the "Big 5-0"!

And THAT is very good news!



What did I learn:

Maybe being in my 50's is okay! At least today.

Pets

Bear 2012

While I was locked out of my blog last fall my son's dog, Bear, died. He was 15 years old and had lost his hearing and site and was starting to have trouble getting to his feet. Being an outside dog (he'd cry if we brought him in) meant I had to go out if he barked and also on a set schedule to lead him to his water, make sure he ate something, and give him love so he would know he wasn't alone. He was a sweet dog who loved children, which is why Damien said he was his dog when he was just a toddler. (he was his dad's dog before) I think Damien was from Jersey in a past life, because he called him 'Bee-ah' back then.

It was a sad time, but I told him when he was ready we could find him a puppy. Time for children is different than for adults. Whenever I lost a pet I had to mourn for at least 6 months before I would even consider a new 'family member'. So, within a month we were into the hunt. I didn't want a pure breed. I wanted a pup who truly needed a home. Finally we found a listing on Craig's list. Someone had dumped a pregnant dog in the country about an hour away in Crane, Missouri and they had five pups needing homes. They said the mom looked like a basset-beagle mix and the dad was unknown. Done.

I had a beagle mix when I was Damien's age and she, Ginger, was the most awesome dog in the world to me. She would let me dress her in my clothes and walk her around the block. She was protective of us children, and slept beside my bed so I could hang my right arm off the bed and touch her when I was drifting off to sleep.

Comet

We drove down and he picked a little boy and soon named him Comet. While Bear was a calm laid-back dog, Comet is a burst of pure energy. He had ringworms when we got him and was covered in fleas and ticks, so to the vet we went for first shots, and worm medicine. The vet recommended jock itch cream for a topical for the ringworms.The vet took one look at him that first time he was at her office and said "His dad is defiantly Jack Russell." Then she laughed and said, "Jack Russell, Beagle and Bassett? You have some interesting times ahead!" and laughed again. Boy! She hit that on the head!

Later it was neutering and more shots. A few months later it was back to the vet for a skin yeast infection, and yet again for the yeast infection. Now, I bet you think I thought we had gotten a 'lemon'. But that little monster fits our family like a glove! We finally figured out he's allergic to dairy, and I was giving him the pills for his itching and yeast infection wrapped in cheese!! So finally no more rash!



Shady and Comet enjoying the snow

My dog Shady hated him for about 24 hours. He had been raised in a home full of senior citizen dogs, so it didn't take long for him to discover this little newbie wanted to play! From then on they were best buds. Running and tumbling inside and out. On the floor and on the bed (usually at bedtime). As a matter of fact Shady lost 5 pounds! He went from 52 lbs. to 47 lbs.. They even sleep side-by-side.



Comet has two speeds: Full-out and stop or sleep. No in between yet. Maybe when he's older, but what I've read about Jack Russell's... He has the Beagle 'Bay' when he sees a rabbit or squirrel. His nose is down on the ground as soon as he goes outside. Once I heard him really making a commotion. I went out and he had is head in the bushes. And then he'd jump back and bay. When I looked I found a snakeskin. About a four and a half to five foot snakeskin! I hope it's the blacksnake we saw once and not a new visitor!

But in the end I have to say he is loved by everyone in this house. Especially Shady.



What I already knew:

Spay and neuter people! And NEVER dump a dog or cat to fend for it's self or think someone will take it in. Comet's mom was very lucky! There are people who will shoot a stray. Just. Plain. Stupid.

P.S.

I Just read the above "Spay and neuter people!" I guess it should have been: "Spay and neuter, people" or "Spay and neuter your pets, people!" But sometimes I think, with some people, it should really be a call to "Spay and neuter people"!