What Am I Doing Here?

I have to tell you that I am a true newbie at this whole blog thing. HUGE thanks and kudos to my youngest daughter, Julia, who has poked, prodded, motivated and encouraged me to do this. She kind of got me hooked on the blog world last summer when she introduced me to some of her favorites. (Hello, Peanut Butter Runner, Urban Grace Interiors and Silver Lining Avenue.)

And then I started thinking about how much fun and therapeutic and, well, downright essential it is to "compare notes" on this whole getting-older thing.

It was so helpful for me to be forewarned about the changes that were coming --  like night sweats, spotted hands, spider veins, scummy teeth and increased flatulence -- by my "older" friends (and that includes you, Sis!). And I probably would have freaked out (even more than I actually did) had I not been told of the myriad emotions and seemingly unprovoked sobbing that comes with the early stages of Empty-Nest-hood. So now I kind of want to "give back" by prepping my younger friends (you brats!) as to what lies ahead.

And so it is that I am here. I want to be a part of the dialog that defines, augments and embellishes our lives as we head into our second half-century (!!!).  And maybe, just maybe, if we keep laughing and talking and commiserating, we'll more quickly realize that we are not alone, and that we're all in this together. Misery does love company, don't ya know?  :)


So I truly hope this becomes an enjoyable, fun, happy, informative and quasi-educational blog, and not a "blah-g" (bland, vanilla and boring).

Let's let the cyber hand-holding begin!

And Mom, I promise I will try to follow your admonishment NOT to talk politics here. (Trust me, there will be days where my tongue will hurt!)

Flippin' Floaters

Okay. So about two weeks ago, as I was minding my own business, preparing my dog's (Mia!!!) dinner, there suddenly appeared....."black things" in my right eye. I thought, no big, it's just a glob of mascara. And then the "black things" started moving all around. So I thought, no big, it's a black cobweb (why I thought there would be cobwebs, black ones yet,  in my kitchen, I'll never know). That wasn't the culprit. Oh, I know what it is: "black things" were stuck under my contact lens. So I took out the old contact lens and put in a new one. But...they  were  still   there!!

So I did what I'm guilty of doing way too often; I Googled "black things moving in your eyes." And that's when I learned they're called floaters, and that it "comes with age," to "older patients." SH*T. Another body part bites the dust.

Now I would be remiss here if I didn't give kudos to my friend Jeff, an optometrist, who I anxiously sought out the next morning at the gym. He smiled knowingly as I went into painstaking (and I'm sure boring) detail as to the events of my previous evening. After telling me alllll about the "refractive index" and the "vitreous humour," blah-blah-blah, he assured me that it's normal, that it comes with time, and that it happens to all of us as the years go by. Not one word about AGE or GETTING OLDER. Now how is that for good bedside manner? Thank you, Jeff!

(FYI:  He did ask if I had flashing lights accompanying the "black things." I learned that that can be cause for concern, as it could be the beginning of a detached retina, which requires immediate medical attention. Serious stuff.)

Anyway...So the floaters are still flippin' around in my field of my vision, but not as badly. And I won't freak out if, and probably when, (per Jeff) I get them in my left eye, as I know now that it just comes with time.

Two morals to this story: Don't freak out if you, too, get floaters!! It's normal, and you're not alone. And if you're ever in the Sacramento area and you need an optometrist, Jeff is your guy.

Hair We Go!

I was never the girl with the beautifully lustrous and shiny head of hair. It wasn't awful, though. And I'd like to think I made the best of it. I remember fondly the days when I could quickly put it back in a cute, full, bouncy pony. Two loops of the elastic band, and I was good to go.

Now...it's different. I have more hair-don'ts than hair-do's now. And these days it takes at least four (4!!) loops of the elastic band. After a lot of work and deliberation trying to achieve the casual look, I'm left with a wimpy and "frithy" pull-back. Quite pathetic, actually. It's a slow, ugly, insidious thing, this hair-thinning process.

Sadly, I have to clean out my brush a lot more often now. There are more hair strands (aka globs) than ever before left behind on the shower door.

The word "thin" is a great thing in virtually every aspect of my present-day life, except when it comes to the volume of this hair of mine. Arghhhh.

I guess the moral of the story is that Mother Nature giveth, and Mother Nature taketh away. But I sometimes just don't understand the various body parts She's chosen.

(Has anyone out there tried Rogaine For Women? Does it work? Does anyone else 'steal' their husband's Nioxin Scalp Treatment For Thinning Hair, and it doesn't do a thing?)

"Spoon Chandy"

Is this not one of the coolest chandeliers you've ever seen? I saw this in a shop in Nashville (Franklin, technically) and fell in love with it.

Nor Cal comfort

LoveLoveLove a creamy, soothing, delicious, warm nonfat latte on a cold winter day in Northern California! (Oh, and of course a bite or two of dark chocolate.)

Face It! (The eyes)

Nora "feels bad about her neck." Well, I feel just awful about my eyes.

When I was a young thing, my eyelashes were so long and lush and dark that I had to use mascara sparingly so as to avoid tarantula-eyes. My lashes now are sparse; they've shrunk in length; and they've faded from black to (a sick) mouse brown. I've tried virtually every lash-enhancing mascara on the market (from drug store to department store brands), and what it does is just create fat little globules at the end of the lashes, making them look stumpier than ever.

I not only have crow's feet; the crow has landed! And it's one large, heavy-duty, ever-so-stubborn crow. What were once smooth, taut eyelids have morphed into a loose, baggy, crepe paper like consistency. Since the skin surrounding my eyes has changed so dramatically, I'm sure my eyes, if measured, would be about two-thirds the size they once were.

Oh, how I wish that crow would go away!

I'm in constant pursuit of concealer, moisturizer, foundation, eye-brightener, spackle, grout, putty, caulking or whatever I can find to attempt disguise and/or coverage of the wrinkles, fine lines, bags and discolorations. Some days they work better than others. That's where the sleep and water intake, I've discovered, play a part.

My eyes aren't as forgiving as they once were. If I'm the least bit sleep-deprived, it shows in my eyes. If I've had a glass of wine too many, my eyes will tell the world the next day. Used to be I could get by on five hours of sleep after eating Japanese food, heavy on the soy sauce, and no one ever suspected a thing. Those days are way gone.

And let's talk about the internal stuff that's going on. My optometrist, Dr. Brown, has now given me close-up and far-away contacts, one for each eye (or whatever the correct lingo is). So YAY, I don't have to wear the Costco readers anymore. But...I still struggle with small print in dark places. In other words, while reading the menu in a restaurant, I still squint and look like a trombone player as I attempt to extend my arms long enough to achieve successful reading! Such is the way of my current life.

I love what Katie Couric said though: "God has a way of making your eyes go, just as your body is starting to go."

Thank you, God. I guess.

Yep, I'm one of those

So...how did I get here? What happened?

I never in a million years thought my thighs would get this mushy.  I never, ever dreamt that I'd feel most confident about my face when hiding behind a pair of sunglasses and/or standing in a very dimly lit room. And if you had told me back when I was 40 (seems like yesterday) that I someday would seriously consider being less than truthful about my age one day, I'd have called you crazy.

But that was then, and this is now. Sunglasses, dimly-lit spaces and changing-the-subject-when-age-is-mentioned are now my friends. :)

Time and Gravity

I am a terrible cook. I'm awful at anything having to do with math. There's no such thing as a 'green thumb' in my world. And I'm a total failure at assembling the most basic of tables from Target. But...I am an expert at one thing: My body.

I've resided in this body for 50+ years. I've been with it through thick and thin - literally. It's taken me to some wonderful places, and it's helped me see beautiful and amazing things. I have the utmost of respect and gratitude for it. And I know it better than anyone else on Earth. We've had a great journey so far, this body and I, and I'm thankful that we're still going.  Kinda sorta...

All this proper care and feeding maybe, just maybe, has s-l-o-w-e-d the aging process down a teensy bit. But I'd ask that you indulge and allow me, for therapy's sake, to scrutinize and inventory, top to bottom, inside and outside, the changes. I'm not going to throw a pity party, and I promise I'll try not to complain (too much), but I do have this burning desire to wallow in my observations and insecurities one more time as I elaborate on all that time and gravity has done!


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