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Posts Tagged ‘Aging’

20160907_181640Would you believe that even men’s underclothing can be trendy and mysterious?

Parental Guidance recommended.  This is a true truly indelicate story.

Bill and I went shopping last week.

Bill purchased some great socks, a couple of T-shirts, and a package of three boxer shorts.   I complimented him on his refined taste in underdrawers.

“Good brand,” I said.

But when we got home and the new shorts were put to a test, he discovered a  serious flaw in the merchandise.

There was no fly!

“Can you imagine this?” he said.  

“Why would they ever sell boxer shorts with no fly?”

Since I try hard to solve all mysteries, I began thinking.

Thinking is supposed to be good for aging people.

  • Maybe they were shorts for sports.
  • Maybe when they called them boxers they meant the kind boxers really wear in the fighting ring.  They wouldn’t have a fly would they?  That would be somewhat risky depending upon where the knockout punch landed.
  • Men’s bathing suits don’t have a fly either, or do they?  I never really noticed.
  • Did George Washington have no-fly briefs?

    george-washington

    George Washington portrait

I tried hard to figure out the mystery but finally agreed the shorts Bill bought were flawed!

The fly/flies/flys must have been sewn shut by accident. 

I told Bill to give me the unused items and I would return them to the store and explain the manufacturer’s malfunction.

That night however, I began thinking again and mulling.  Isn’t mulling a lovely word?

And finally I thought of GOOGLE SEARCH!

And there they were – No-Fly Briefs – all over Amazon.com and everywhere else  you can think of.

They are the big “in” thing now because they are seamless if you are a man who wears tight pants.

Who knew?

But seamed or seamless, Bill will not wear them.  And by the way, he doesn’t wear tight pants either.

So goes my somewhat indelicate story of trends in modern day apparel.

And Bill is steering clear of the “no-fly zone.”

Re Comments:  

If your spouse or significant other is wearing no-fly boxer briefs, please, that is way more than I need to know.

 

 

 

 

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27 Year Old Latch

There is a certain sweet familiarity

about rusty old friends

who wobble and groan

and creak and moan

like me.

 

 

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I have graduated from a Big Foot to a “Trigger Thumb!”

Perhaps I am suffering from Early Onset Old Age Decrepincy.

Decrepincy is my own self inspired word that is an extension of  the state of being decrepit.

After all, what would you call the systematic deterioration of body parts?

I am out of the Big Foot boot after wearing it for seven months (for bone marrow edema), and out of a different brace after wearing that for weeks (for plantar fasciitis).

trigger-thumb-only-blog-pos  And now I am wearing a splint for a Trigger Thumb!

This malady is supposedly caused by overuse and may be the only part of my decrepit body that gets overused!

My right thumb now bends and clicks just like pulling the trigger of a gun!  And no, this has nothing to do with 2nd Amendment rights either.

I feel a kinship with John Wayne  though, the silver screen cowboy who used his trigger fingers (or thumb?) to blast away at evil doers!

 

john wayne

John Wayne

The term”trigger finger” makes a bit more sense than a trigger thumb,  but there you have it – Decrepincy knows no bounds.

Get ready my friends in the blog-us-fear – I’ll meet you at the OK Corral!

For inquiring bloggers who have never heard of my latest malady:

“Trigger finger, also known as stenosing tenosynovitis (stuh-NO-sing ten-o-sin-o-VIE-tis), is a condition in which one of your fingers gets stuck in a bent position. Your finger may straighten with a snap — like a trigger being pulled and released.

Trigger finger occurs when inflammation narrows the space within the sheath that surrounds the tendon in the affected finger. If trigger finger is severe, your finger may become locked in a bent position.

People whose work or hobbies require repetitive gripping actions are at higher risk of developing trigger finger. The condition is also more common in women…”.

Source:  www.mayoclinic.org

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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I wish I had taken their picture.

I went to visit old friends who have been married  for 72 years.

He is 98 , looks 65 and is still a community volunteer!

Still driving her around town too.

He proudly says he takes no prescription medications- only Vitamin C, Vitamin E, and baby aspirin.

Imagine?

She is 92 and beautiful – elegantly coiffed with painted nails, gorgeous clothes, and a smile that transforms her face to youth.

They are both beautiful.

I love talking to them, or rather, just listening to their stories of a lifetime together.

Oh, there are the negatives like lost hearing, balance and reading ability.

But they both offer this advice:

“Do not dwell on  the things you cannot do.  Be grateful for  the things you can.”

And they are truly my inspiration.

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Oh yes, there is a similarity between Cinderella and me since Big Foot got taken down to a demure size.

Ready to get back into pretty little shoes and maybe even glass slippers!

But as you know, the big shock was the diagnosis of a new foot condition (Plantar Fasciitis) with recommended arch support inserts (the downside of too much marathon running and athletic pursuits like pole vaulting).

To add to the arsenal of curative orthopedic aids, I got some Dr. Scholl’s gel heel pads too.

Trying the heel pads first, they offered a little comfort – maybe.

Then in went the doctor-provided arch supports for the next test.

“These things take up a lot of space,” I thought, because the shoes were uncomfortably tight.

But I wore the inserts anyway and grimaced my way through the day until finally it was bedtime.

Ahhhhhh!

The very first thing was to get rid of those miserably tight shoes and of course I gratefully removed the arch inserts.

And there were the Dr. Scholl’s labels!

Picture this:  Underneath the arch support things,

were the heel support things,

all stacked to create some very tight shoes!

Don’t you wonder what Prince Charming would have thought of all that mistakenly placed double padding?

This sheepish Cinderella stayed home all the next day.

Never mind prepping for the ball.

It wasn’t because she had to clean fireplace cinders, but she was googling for information about the side effects of stacking too many shoe inserts in a glass slipper.

 

 

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416xNxOgden_Nash_Unripened_Berry_mini.jpg.pagespeed.ic.IjGEkqdiA0

There’s more to aging than I expected.

There is the expectation fear of aging.

For a week now my vision has been blurry.

And of course the insidious aging process has already begun.  Along with a myriad of minor aches and pains, my eyesight was fading.  Incoming email messages to my smart phone were lost in a dim sea of gray and I found myself straining (even with glasses) to read blogger’s posts and important correspondence.

Ha!  I do keep the ringer loud though, so people think I am extremely popular.

But back to fading eyesight, “Maybe I need new glasses,” I thought.

Last night I decided it was time to discuss this most recent aging complaint with a specialist.

On the other hand, maybe I should look at the smart phone settings first.

Surprise!

The brightness option was turned off.

And Voila!

With the click of a button, my vision was completely restored.

The moral of this story is not to let fear of aging (or warped technology) get you down.

Just because you can’t see straight doesn’t mean you need to adjust your glasses.

 

 

 

 

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Secret Box n DescriptionThe aches and pains of aging are one thing.  I expect that.

Short term memory loss is another.  I expect that too.

However,

Planned Forgetting requires some immediate attention.

Have you ever looked around for a foolproof hiding place for your special treasures?

Well, that’s what I was going about doing.

Where could I hide my favorite locket?

  • How about the freezer?  No, that’s old-hat.
  • Hide it in one of those mini boxes with secret ways to open?  Nope. Probably well known to marauders.
  • In the back of a desk file drawer?  Not there either – thieves would probably look there first.Locket in Files
  • In a shoe box with some shoes.  No, No, No!Locket in Shoe Box 2
  • Finally there it was – the perfect spot.  “I WILL remember this place! I MUST remember!”

You can see where this is going.  I was consciously, knowingly planning to forget and stored the locket in the pocket of a favorite off-season jacket.

And of course I did forget  both the locket and the jacket.

Weeks later I wanted to wear the locket but where was it?

I looked in the mini treasure box, the desk drawer, the files in the desk drawer, the freezer, all the logical storage spots, and every box of shoes (including Bill’s).  This took hours of emptying and reassembling drawers, thinking and thinking, retracing steps.

“It’s no big deal,” I thought, “How important are such things in life anyway?”

But it wasn’t the loss that was so frustrating, it was the fact that I could not remember where I put it, that I knew I would not remember where I put it, and my own prophecy had come true.

Finally on the verge of tears, I tried one last place.

“It must be in a pocket! My mother always hid things in pockets!”  That meant going through the pockets of all the slacks, tops and vests in the closet, and finally the jackets.  Touching the last jacket I knew the locket had to be there.

And there it was!

And that is the essence of “Planned Forgetting!”

Locket in Jacket

If you are a robber and want my pretty locket, well, come and get it!

It’s will now forever reside in an old fashioned junk jewelry box in plain sight.

Hopefully I will not forget I didn’t plan to forget another hiding place and then forget that it is in the jewelry box right under my nose.

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I have just returned from a trip down “memory lane” with my friend, Kate of CoffeeKatBlog who wrote Things About My Youth.

We sort of grew up during the same era and many of Kate’s memories are mine.

Her funny, delightful post reminded me of a poem I wrote a long time ago about a girl in a photograph.

Who is that girl in the photograph,

the one with the spark of youth

dressed for a prom in a silken gown

with a faraway look of hope?

Who is that girl in the photograph,

the one with the faraway dream,

dressed in her best to celebrate?

I think she may have been me.

I remember that dress in the photograph

and the boy who was just as scared,

that soft starry night of the senior prom,

I remember the night clear and fair.

But who is that girl in the photograph?

She seems someone else I once knew,

the child I was, growing up and out

in a world that was changing too.

And onward time marched in quick-step

When a different boy called her wife

while the glowing girl in the photograph

stayed young and full of life.

The seasons passed and the years ticked on

while the picture stayed the same,

through challenges of work and home

and a son making Mom her name.

Running and running the years went by.

Now a grandma looks to the past

at an image of hope for an unknown life –

the young girl in the photograph.

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20160215_180533

A chalk drawing of a little girl

always hung in a living room space.

She’s all grown up now of course,

but it still holds an honored place.

The little girl was me before

 and hangs again on our living room wall,

a reminder of who I once was growing up

and who I am still, after all.

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Guilt was the final feeling after I posted a blog about my new very short haircut.

I have  since decided to “bite the bullet” and grin and  share my dark haired beauteous transformation..

I realize today’s photo does not comport with the blog profile photo which has been up for several years.  I kinda liked the grey but with righteous living, my hair turned dark again.

And the shorter it gets, the darker!

Didn’t I tell you short hair would make you look and feel 20 years younger?

 

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