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My Fourth blog on WDC |
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Welcome to Almosta Blog, the stories that happen every day here on Almosta Ranch. Come on in and be welcome, draw up a chair and set a spell on the front porch with me and my sweet wife, Melinda, better known as Mel. What you will find here are stories about our many animals, and our daily life on a working ranch. Not the most riviting of subjects but I will try to hold your interest. |
| It occurred to me the other day, when I first unlocked the door to this old house of mine in Blogville, that I had let the old place fall into a dreadful state of disrepair. The thing about these houses in Blogville, they need constant care and attention and going off and leaving one empty for years will cause it's eventual collapse. Having decided to move back into the old place, I now have to do some renovations and redecorating in order to get it back into shape for the occasional visitor who might drop by. So, with that in mind, I will be working on a new intro and perhaps a new title for the place, something that more closely reflects who I am and where I find myself today. You see, there is no more "Almosta Ranch". Of the ranch's human occupants, one is dead and the other....me...has returned to the state of his birth. All the myriad animals that called Almosta home have left the stage as well....gone to new homes and new adventures. I will try to make my Blogville home reflect these changes without being too maudlin. I think it is time for me to stop dwelling on what was and write about what is and maybe what will be. So, in the coming weeks and months, as I refurbish the place, I hope you will drop by for a visit and I really hope you find the visit worth your while. Now where did I put that hammer and nails? Time to go to work. |
| When did it happen? I had occasion to ask myself that question one night, not long ago as I stumbled out of bed for yet another bathroom visit. For some reason I happened to notice my gait; I was shuffling down the hall. That's when I had to ask myself: When did it happen; when did I suddenly turn into an old man? The shuffle was a dead give away. Gone was my strong, self assured stride...I was now walking like a damn old man. In an effort to double check my theory, I glanced in the bathroom mirror. Yup, sure enough, there was this old codger looking back at me. White hair, white beard, skin loose and wrinkled, I had indeed turned into an old man but for the life of me I don't remember it happening. I returned to my bed but sleep remained elusive. I kept mulling over this new revelation like a dog worrying over some new-found bone. From what I had seen in my mirror and what I had witnessed with my walk, I must have been this way for some time now. These physical manifestations don't happen overnight, do they? When did the changes begin? Was it when all my children were grown and starting families of their own? No. Hell I started young so I was just hitting my stride at that point. Even when my own kids were becoming grandparents themselves, I still did not feel the ravages of age or have a sense of Time being a finite element. So when did it happen to me? The answer hit me like a ton of bricks. It happened almost two years ago when she died and she took all the magic with her. This left Old Age free to pounce on me like a cat with a new ball of yarn. Ask anyone who knew us when she was alive, we always acted like a couple of teenagers. Thanks to her boundless optimism and love of life, we were constantly looking forward to our next adventure and sure in our ability to take on whatever the world tossed in our paths...Old Age was powerless against us. Ours was a magic he could not overcome. There is something oddly comforting about solving a mystery like this, even when you don't like the answer. She was gone and the magic with her, leaving me to finally face the reality of age and one undisputable truth. Old age has nothing to do with our bodies growing older...mine had been doing that all along...Old Age finally traps you when you start to age on the inside. Now you might think that, having come to this conclusion, I would be sad or depressed, or some other dumb shit thing but that's not the case. I see it as a natural progression. It's okay that I'm now an old codger. Now I have no trouble letting go of all the crap in the world, let the smartassed youngsters worry and fret about the future...it's theirs not mine. Besides, when you're old, the young tend to dismiss you as irrelevant anyway. I'm perfectly happy marking time until Old Age gets bored with me and I'm allowed to step through the door to the next world, find my baby, and be young again with her forever. |
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