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.
BANANA BAR MAY 21st PROMPT DRIVE-IN SERIES: Any additional visits to the drive-in after your first experience? Short answer, yes. After my first experience with a drive-in I continued to visit. Why not? Two movies for the cost of one in a theatre? Sit in my own vehicle with the freedom to stretch my legs? Attend with company/other people if in the mood? Bring my own snacks if I so choose? Natter and comment without disturbing other movie patrons? At one time in the recent past drive-ins existed in many towns/cities. On a whim, I could travel to whichever one appealed to me with its showings. My hometown boasted one drive-in, The Sunset. Two more awaited my perusal within a short road trip excursion distance. Oh, did I mention my brother and I learned to drive at The Sunset? Our family called a large land yacht,an Oldsmobile Ninety-Eight, our official transporter. Mark and I spent one summer season picking up the garbage that predictably accumulated at the site. Hey, it was a paying job. Together we developed a feel for that car and tested its manoeuverability/ turning radius weaving in and out between the numerous speaker poles. No one interrupted us as we 'worked' at our own pace. Did we kick up dust? Maybe. Did we squeal the tires? Maybe. Did we dent the car? Why no, never. Hubby and I were once newlyweds and as such we decided one Saturday evening to explore. Jumping in our vehicle we headed out of town in search of a new-to-us drive-in. Our foray took us about an hour from home. As the sun began its blazing descent we pulled into a parking spot next to a speaker perched atop a metal pole. The driver-side window was lowered and hubby pulled in the speaker. He clipped it to the door. He fiddled with a knob. No sound. He jiggled the wires. No sound. He picked up the mute speaker and shook it. No sound. With a shrug, Paul balanced that faulty speaker back atop its pole. He restarted the car, reversed and angled for a different spot. After all the re-settling moves, he once again reached for a speaker. In a deja-vu moment, he wrestled with a second uncooperative piece of junk. Despite his best efforts no sound emanated from this speaker either. Bright lights flashed across the screen. Figures jumped. Vehicles sped along a highway. The actors gesticulated and their mouths moved as if miming speech. We heard nothing; no dialogue, no background, mood-setting music,no blare of car horns or rumbling exhausts. We glanced around and noticed other patrons tapping and shaking their speakers. One by one, irate, I assume, customers threw speakers out their windows and screeched away in clouds of dust. Ah, so, no on was wired for sound. Just for giggles, hubby and I stayed put. We amused ourselves by inventing our own dialogue. We attempted lip-reading. Anyway, the silent movie we viewed up on the big screen featured two well known actors/comedians, Cheech and Chong. Up In Smoke proved to be just that.
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