New Year! Whoo Hoo!

A brand new year and it will be a good one.    Goals to shoot for, and have already started the big one.  I'm in training to enter a 10km race sometime this year.    Doesn't matter whether I run or walk, the aim is to COMPLETE.

We are in mid summer and the heat is fierce.    101F in my living room right now.     The poor cat took refuge under the house early this morning, and he won't come out until the sun goes down!  I might join him.    

70 Salubrious And Saucy!

I gave this speech at Toastmasters four years ago, just after my 70th birthday.

70   SALUBRIOUS   AND  SAUCY

It used to be said that we are allotted a lifespan of 3 score years and 10.   Last year I joined the ranks of people reaching  the big 7 0 ------ I passed my use by date!!!   And if you think that means retiring to the rocking chair wallowing in TV soaps, think again.   I’d much rather ride pillion on a Harley Davidson bike, with a huge, hairy Hells Angel up front, yahooing all the way down John Street!   Me, not him.

AMAZING  how things change with the years.   We used to tell our kids, “Don’t argue with your elders and betters.”   Now they tell us, “Don’t argue with those younger, and more knowledgeable than you.”   Where on earth did they get that from?   How do these “knowledgeable” youngsters think we got this far in life, knowing nothing, and managing to survive those “blissful” child rearing years, without ending up in the nuthouse?!

We aren’t supposed to know what a red blood cell is, let alone have any!  Unthinkable!

And all the weeping and gnashing of gums makes no difference.   They know best.   Such innocence!   If they only knew what goes on behind the mask of quiet, sedate seniority.

Well I’ve  made a few discoveries, and I’m enjoying a freedom I haven’t known in 50 years.    Passing my use by date means I can do practically anything I want ----and get away with it, because first of all, you are expected to do some daft things, and second, everybody underestimates you.

You can indulge in the most outrageous things;  I could go and throw my arms round the most gorgeous hunk in Rosewood ----- provided I could find one ----- and nobody would even blink.   A case of “Oh, they go like that with age, probably Alzheimers.”

But people think you lose your sense of fun, with advancing years.   Last year, my 70th birthday fell on a Sunday, and I told a woman at the church I was attending then, that on the day I’d turn up at church in a red mini skirt, black fishnet stockings (with suspenders), and wearing 3 inch heels.   Her face was a picture!   She really believed I was soft enough in the head to do it!! I’d forgotten there are people in this world who just don’t have a sense of humour.   If I’d said it to Pauline she’d have told me to get on with it.    I just might have done it too, but the legs will no longer bear scrutiny.

In my time, many people have underestimated me, and it used to get under my skin, until I realized what an asset it was.   And it gets better with age.   This torch is one I take with me on my early morning walks, in winter, and it gives a strong beam.   But it’s more than that.   It’s metal and it’s heavy, and I’d have no hesitation in using it as a weapon if  necessary.    But supposing I had a grudge to settle with someone, and decided to go straighten him out?    Bear in mind that Golden Oldies are supposed to be easily intimidated, non aggressive and frail.   Definitely non-violent and harmless.   A bit thick too.   A quick belt with the torch, and he’s gone to LA LA LAND minus nose and teeth.   He tells the cops I attacked him, I plead self defence.    Now who is going to believe this quiet senior citizen would be capable of such dreadful wickedness?    And anyway, would he really want his pals to know he’d been decked by a woman?   Especially one who’s supposed to be a bit past it?

Oh what privilege age gives us.   We can turn into crafty, conniving scallywags, and be above suspicion.

I know there’s a down side to getting older.   Train steps are higher, and have you noticed that they’re making the eyes in needles much smaller these days?

Then of course, there’s this forgetfulness.   You stand in front of the fridge, wondering if you meant to put something in, or take something out.   Maybe you find yourself at the foot of the stairs, unsure if you just came down, or should be going up.   

Unimportant.   Write notes to yourself.    “Put MILK in fridge, and CAT outside.”  Get that one wrong and you’re in deep 

fertilizer !!!

But there’s another plus here.   You can get out of doing almost anything ---- by simply forgetting !   Blame it on short term memory loss.   You’ll be believed.   Just don’t make eye contact at the time.   You can fall about laughing when you get behind closed doors.

Life DOESN’T begin at 40, it begins at 70.    When you pass your use by date you can really kick up your heels.   Dye your hair green ! Buy a G- string, (thong) instead of Bonds Bloomers !   The list is endless.   

I do draw the line at doing a strip in the middle of Rosewood.    You can all get your laughs somewhere else.

  

So.  Am I Supergran, or just a geriatric teenager with an attitude?   Whichever it is, lookout world here I come, and those who shake their heads in disgust can just get on with it .

Dance Of The Panty Hose

This is a speech I gave at Toastmasters 3 Months ago and won a First at Club Level.

DANCE OF THE PANTY HOSE

I have some news for you.   Do you know why women who wear tights or panty hose never need to go to the gym?    That’s because they go through a performance, getting into these things which easily qualifies as a workout!   

At the beginning of winter, I decided I wasn’t going to hang around the house in baggy track pants every day.     Comfortable casual, that’s the thing, then I’d look tidy if the vicar came to call.

But I did need to keep warm, so I bought some of those opaque pantyhose to wear with a skirt.   I didn’t know what I’d let myself in for…… because these thicker stockings do not have the stretch which the finer ones do.   The first morning I put them on, I ended up doing a set of aerobic exercises which would have earned me applause from any gym instructor.

Pulled each leg on, stretching the material gently over the knees and up to hip level…… and they would go no further.   I started to wonder if it was possible to die from  a tight  ligature around the hips!     Strangulation!!!    Now I know that current trends stipulate that trousers should be worn at half mast, but if I were to leave these where they were, it would be like wearing leg irons!   I’d be walking around doing the Geisha Shuffle!!!      

 To add to the problem, I’d got the left leg twisted, so the  fabric was biting into my leg giving it a strange shape.    At that point, I noticed the cat watching all this wriggling around.     A cat is a master at reducing you to the size of a paper clip, with that amazing non-blinking stare.    That was when I caught sight of myself in the mirror.     Remember the Michelin Man tyres logo?   That’s exactly what I looked like.  Bulges where I knew I really didn’t have them!    Back to square one.

First, I put a sheet over that lying mirror, booted the cat out the door,  then  I started again, and when I got those darned things up to knee level, the real fun began.   Start the music!!!

I did squats….. down, up, down up…..anything to get that extra bit of stretch  in the leg part.    Next came the butt kicks, about six each side, all the time pulling gently on the fabric.     You know that these exercises really are aerobics?    Fine, we got to the hips.   Now I know I have a rear end like the back of a bus,  but this garment was supposed to be for my size.     To get them over my hips, I had to do several forward bends, pulling the fabric up behind me, then a sort of back stretch to get it over my stomach.     Nearly knackered by this time, puffing and blowing and definitely feeling my age, we weren’t yet finished.     Side stretch to the left, while I pulled up the right side, then side stretch to the right while I pulled up the left side.     Done.   They were on.   The only thing I hadn’t done was to stand on my head in the corner.   Trouble was, I was so hot, I needed to peel them off and get another shower!   

But if I had to go through this performance every morning I should develop muscles like Arnie Schwarzenegger!   Not sure I’d want that.    

And these wonderful panty hose weren’t finished with me yet.    I spent the rest of the day preventing them crawling down my legs!    

 

So if you ever see an otherwise perfectly poised woman suddenly grab her thighs and start doing squats, don’t call the cops, or the men in white coats.     She isn’t dangerous, she isn’t a pervert or a nut case, She ‘s just getting those darned panty hose back up where they belong.

Now  there are some men who seem to think that women make a big deal out of nothing.   And some who have watched  their dearly beloved going through this performance, and smirked, thinking that men could do it better.     To you I say try it……Let’s see you get into a pair of panty hose gracefully and with ease.     Oh, and don’t forget to put it on You Tube, we’d love to see your efforts to do it better.

.     

New Years Eve

Suppose this is a good time to begin something new, with a New year starting in just 12 hours.
But this is really just an initial foray, because I have no idea what I'll use this for.  Maybe publish knitting patterns for others to use.

Pam