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January 22, 2012

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As I Was Saying
By Opal Toney

OpalToney7-24.jpg (37075 bytes)Spring is coming...
I can hardly believe we just had a visit from Santa Claus, and then he left for a year.
The birds and squirrels seem to be having a good time in and out under the tall trees outside.
All the leaves will soon come back for spring and they will be green and the birds will return too, but they won’t be green.
I see one of the cats washing itself with its tongue. I’m sure glad I don’t use mine for that, even if some folks do say I use it for talking too much.
So, I decided not to talk and do more writing.
I’m looking out the window and the ground is covered with birds eatin’ acorns.
I’m always happy when spring comes and I can sit outside and wave at folks. And, maybe, some will have time to stop and stay a while.
The Last Word: I’m always happy when spring gets here. – O.T.

 

honeyandflag.jpg (61206 bytes)The View From Here
By Katherine Veno

Life before sixty...
I consider life before sixty as my training ground, my warm-up, my exercise in learning phase. The baby-boomers have officially been rearranged into the category of senior citizens. We are filed, but not forgotten as yet.
There will be a time in the not so distant future when the term baby-boomer will be found in historical books, but for right now with the beginning wave born in ‘46 and the last group in ‘52, we have a few years left to make ourselves heard. And we can be quite noisy and opinionated.
We were here before television, credit cards and fiber optic Christmas trees. We had to decorate them the old fashioned way, and string the lights on our trees. There were no dishwashers, electric blankets, and men did not wear earrings unless they were a pirate.
Family time meant togetherness not living in an apartment or condominium. Girls wore Peter Pan collars, and boys wore the jeans. There were no panty hose, facelifts, tummy tucks, liposuction and as the song says, “a coke was a coke.”
There were no computers, and a mouse pad was a hole in the barn where the mice lived. If you had a hard drive, you had been some place far away. But we are a tough group who lived fast, ran the race hard, and try as we may, we cannot stop getting old. We don’t like it, and we put it off by every imaginable method, but no matter how our world is changing, we have learned about it, and then re-adjusted to it.
We know about a time long ago when there was no answering machine, e-mail, or cell telephone. There was no way to find a person on the Internet, and you had to go visit them face to face.
There is something to be said for a good visit and some conversation. People do not take the time to do it much anymore. I still love porches. I have a small one and I use it all the time. I am most proud of my porch. When somebody comes to visit I like to take a seat out there and let the world just speed on past us while we chat.
Yes, life before sixty was for learning, but it is a new day, and we should lose some keys to our past. It would be crazy to open their doors and look inside at all the pain, mixed with happiness. In the middle of my 60s I have learned that my attitude means the difference in how I live each day. I do not have to do everything I used to do, and I can adjust. I just have to clear out the things and thoughts that are no longer needed or useful to make room for my new garden.
Although I live alone, I refuse to be lonely. I will not allow it. My cat stretches in the morning sun and I will pet his warm fur and enjoy the fact that I have eyes to see, and ears to hear the birds sing. I will take a walk, or phone a friend. I will read a book and sit by the fireplace on a cold morning. As darkness falls I will make a pot of soup and put butter on my crackers before bed.
Most of all, I have learned that most of the things I worried so much about never even happened before life after sixty. I will take lots of naps and swing as high as I can on a swing in the moonlight if the opportunity arises. I will do it now and believe in magic. I will laugh with children, and enjoy the smallest of triumphs. My inner child is still here, and I will honor her. She will only grow old if I let her, and I simply refuse to do that.
I can change my mind and nobody will question it, and there is hardly anything left to learn the hard way. Finally after sixty, good enough really is good enough.

 

EmilyLundy4-2.jpg (36194 bytes)Escapades of Emily
By Emily Gail Lundy

Group therapy...
We’ve known for a long time the question “How are you?” mostly does not mean someone really wants to know.
Because of this, some other women and I think we need a medical support group for women who need to vent about pains, quirks, knots, and daily new occurrences. We are in no way trivializing or frivolously referring to chronic or serious life threatening disease. In limited fashion, we would like to mention the unmentionables and not see yawns on the listeners’ faces.
Think of our little group as being for women who cannot put an unwashed dish in the dishwasher.
Most working women learn quickly which co-worker never to ask, “How are you?” They’ve heard the answer repeated many times.
Maybe someone in the group will have had what we had and know how to help, like duct tape can remove new warts.
President of this group would be the woman who was in labor the longest having a child. VP could be the woman with the most scars. We might discuss seeing doctors who have actually suffered with our problem. (attitude adjustment)
Pain would probably have to be defined, such as the worst kind to have. Men say kidney stone passage is the worst, but since men can’t deliver children, they get no say so. Many women will go with the headache, especially the migraine. I once had throbbing headaches I couldn’t treat with an over-the-counter medication because it was out of reach. The throbbing of such a cranium attack can lead to complete collapse, a trip to ER and a knock-out shot. That occurred only once when I was 23 trying to make chocolate candy dipped in paraffin.
My headaches have decreased with age. Some will find shoulder pain earned from a ladder fall or some mysterious source requires surgery to be the most debilitating known. Bed rest, seclusion, and medication takes a week or more to let this person think of living again.
If a member of our group has surgery for some repair and says emphatically, “No matter how bad this became, never would I go through the surgery again,” don’t think for a moment you will be an exception.
Pain in both feet or back pain - which is worse. The pain stopping you from doing anything else will be the worst.
Therefore, we can add neck pain, knee pain, eye infections with pain, ear aches, the misery from an imbedded end of a thorn tip in the bottom of the foot and no believers until one night, with determination, exasperation, a needle, and two firm thumbs help the tip fly to freedom.
Some pain gets relief easily, a tired gall bladder; and some doesn’t, such as knee replacement. Watch those walking with knee or back pain. These are heroes who go on with life, probably complaining little except to moan ever so often.
There is also the adage to consider: “If it doesn’t hurt, leave it alone.” I think it depends upon where “It” is.
Hope comes in new treatments, new medication, and less invasive surgery. I love the laser. I’ve known pain I didn’t think I could overcome or live after. If you would like to hear about it, call me. I am standing by. Someone told me what I went through isn’t considered major surgery any more. That’s just sad.

 

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