I do not know quite what happened or when , but my hubby and I now qualify for seniors' discounts at some venues. This creates a quandary; in order to save money, but not face, we have to admit to our age. HMMMM..... We definitely do not consider ourselves to be old. In this day and age ,when people as a whole are living longer and healthier lives why are 'young seniors', those in their fifties, like moi, considered 'old'?? It's so true that age is just a perception! "Maturity" is very objective/subjective, and I object! Whew, a few years have skittered by since I composed this biography block. Those "fifties" are in the rear view mirror and they are distant, fond memories. Oh, I do not plan to stop writing any time soon.
I don't care for dark British/Dutch humor. Dislike Monty Python as well. Give me a bittersweet French or Japanese movie or a sad Portuguese song. I'm more introspective.
You were very fortunate. I never really fell into anyone's arms.
I need to reassess my needs. My 'romantic' efforts in Thailand had limited success.
A washing machine is an accurate descriptive for how your body is pummeled with each wave as you're drawn down and then pushed up again. I've been a dozen times and if my shoulder wasn't like it is I would gladly go again. I'm like you very familiar with canoes and kayaks although my preference is a kayak on lakes. I used to take mine out with a small cooler bag with lunch inside and water. My other bag was a dry bag, it held my camera in addition to whatever book I was reading. If my brain was functioning I had sunscreen, depended on my coffee intake for sure. We must have been fish at one point in our life.
I agree with you about the aurora borealis, I don't dare blink. They're just so glorious in color and the way the air feels as you stand there awe struck. I'm equally glad these calories don't count, I feel like I've eaten enough for two people maybe three.
I've wondered the same thing when I read about all the discoveries documented and brought back by ship. Paper that didn't crumble or mold from all the temperature variances.
I'm not as comfortable storing things in the cloud myself, I have external hard drives that I transfer data too and then disconnect from my computer so it is hack proof. Not that I really have data anyone would want but it is personal to me.
But then I think about the close living quarters on a ship how did anyone have room for storage to bring back? Darwin was indeed lucky on the HMS Beagle.
The Wildcard Round! This week's winner, as selected by the Virtual Dice, will receive 5000 GPs!
What are your favorite ways of avoiding the things in life you consider to be distractions? Well, I probably would consider my hubby, my life-partner, to be my biggest, most noticeable distraction. When he and I are in close proximity, it's rather difficult to ignore him. He moves. He speaks. He wants me to accompany him on trips. He shares amusing anecdotes with me. He wishes to be fed. He tempts me with ice cream, or some other sweet treat. Lucky for me he is a long-haul trucker. Usually, he's away from home base for at least a week at a time. Occasionally, his absences last two or three weeks. I have become familiar with being alone. I am free to plot, plan, and post my blog responses. I can surf the world-wide web to my heart's content. I write where and when I wish. Often, I read. Meals become what I crave. The television remote control is handled by my own hand, and I choose what I view. Yah, when he's in residence, and feeling the urge to binge-watch so many programs ala Netflix, I find it distracting. He seems to choose either chick flicks, or action movies. Either way, the volume is guaranteed to be noticeable. He likes his surround sound. Writing to the backdrop of weeping violins, or booming ammunition, screeching car crashes, thundering avalanches, and the like is beyond distracting. He also has the habit of watching a movie, again, and not remembering having ever seen it before in his life. Bah, who am I kidding? I miss the big galoot. Some distractions grow on you...
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