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|The following articles are my own thoughts, yes, I do have some from time to time, so don't blame anyone else! They are written with my tongue firmly planted in my cheek, but they are all based on a certain amount of truth.
Articles are normally posted every Thursday.
December 7th 2017
This getting old stuff is not for the fainthearted that is for sure, not that I am old you understand. 60 is the new 30 and since I only admit to be 50, I am in reality 25.
The problem with 60 being 30 and 50 being 25 is that it does not alter the fact that I was born in 1957, a good year for me, a bad year for Port. I know because a restaurateur of my acquaintance refused to buy me a bottle of 1957 Port, as he did not want to tarnish his reputation.
The other night I noticed the picture on the television screen was blurry so naturally jumped to the conclusion I have late-stage glaucoma. A trip to the oculist and $150.00 later proved the screen is blurred, not my eyes.
I have a touch of arthritis in my knee that only really hurts when I walk, but walking is good for arthritis, or so the knee doctor tells me…but I cannot help thinking he is just making me walk so he can charge me for surgery later.
The other day I noticed some unfortunate noises as I got out of the car and these frightened me because I do not have a gall bladder and people with no gall bladder will know what I am talking about. Suffice it to say Russian roulette is tame compared to getting out of a car when you don’t have a gall bladder!
This morning I filled the coffee maker with water then went to the refrigerator and totally forgot what I was doing. Walking back to the coffee maker I remembered, and also remembered the coffee is kept in the cupboard, and not the refrigerator. Don’t worry; I am not having THOSE types of memory problems, just the type that involves trying to do too many things at the same time, and achieving none!
My mind has always wandered, especially when watching television, as I don’t much like television and last night I was totally mesmerized by the two mechanical snowmen out on our patio raising and lowering their hats. As one raises, so the other lowers, so the other then raises to acknowledge the lowering and on and on it goes and really is it any wonder I cannot remember stuff? Now I have to go. The black and white thing at my feet that meows wants feeding. What’s it called again?