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.
Very nicely written. I am a big communicator and if more people would put forth a better effort, it would be a better place. Little acts of kindness truly goes a long way. You have identified it well. I can feel your sincerity coming through your writing. I would like to see more of the younger crowd helping or being involved with the older folks. I know my day goes better when someone has said hi or gives a waves.
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.
We've all heard of people who mysteriously 'go missing'. Tonight, write about a person who 'goes missing'. Someone that you read about in the newspaper or online, but nobody seems to know them, or remember them. I shiver and pull my windbreaker tighter across my body. Maybe I shoulda opted for a winter jacket, but it's only September and this cold snap surprised me. At least it isn't snowing yet. I step a little quicker and admire the stillness of the early morning street. Not much traffic after midnight. I hoist the bag containing the ingredients for Grandma's cake into a hug. I'm not far from home, but this stuff is growing heavier. I suppose Jessie will want to help me bake the cake. I can't believe she's five already. Just thinking of her licking out the bowl brings a smile to my face. At The Armstrong Bridge I stop, just for a moment, to rest the heavy package on the rail and catch my breath. The theme music from the movie I just watched with my friends floats around in my head. I had fun. We promised to do it again soon. Sigh, I guess I won't be getting much sleep tonight, or should I say morning. As usual, I've volunteered to open the day care tomorrow. Mom won't be in until later. How do those kids come in so full of energy? I'm only fifteen, but man they are little energizer bunnies. As I flex my arms and clutch the plastic bag, I turn my head seeking the source of a sudden noise. Was that a car stopping? Did a door creak open? I don't remember anything after this. I'm drawing a blank. I can only sense a void. I don't feel present, grounded. Am I floating, drifting? Where am I? Strange, but I can see Mom and Jessie crying. I tried to hug them. I shouted at them. Can't they see, or hear me? Why are there police cars and uniformed officers in my house, in my room? What are they looking for? I have no idea what day it is, or what month, or year it is. My sense of time has disappeared. I wander through town and notice posters with my picture. What's that about? Out next to the highway a giant billboard displays my last high school i.d. photo. Am I lost? Am I missing? On September 29th, 1996 fifteen-year old Melanie Ethier vanished walking home in New Liskeard, Ontario, Canada. To this day, no one seems to know what happened to her. I cannot begin to fathom what her mother feels. I have a daughter born the same year as Melanie. I wish answers for that bereft woman.
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