"Dear Diary,"

(This is how my friend mocks me when I mention my blog or post on Facebook.)  Dear Diary, yesterday was a beautiful day.  It rained night before last and everything was still clean and fresh.  We had breakfast with the Flintstones at the Boat House on Hendry’s beach and then took a walk at low tide. Dino stayed at home.  All of the Channel Islands appeared close enough to touch.  I found a rock on the beach that reminded me of a tortoise. I found a barnacle that reminded me of a volcano.  I brought them home to put in my dish of cheesy shells and beach glass.  I am willing to be cheesy and cliché.   According to my friends, I am old.  Being old gives me license not to care.

I like this part of being old.  The “not caring what they think-part”.  I have cared too much for most of my life and now I need a break.  It was worth waiting for.  Along with it, comes the part of knowing more or less, who I am.  I am an old person who shops in the juniors department and wears skinny jeans and high heels that elevate me to the height of an NBA player and from which I could fall down and hurt myself.  I like this!  I am a daredevil.

For the last two years I have listed some very expensive, very high, designer heels at the top of my Christmas list.  I would never have the moxie to spend that kind of money on a pair of shoes all by myself.  However, if I can convince my husband that these shoes would delight and inspire me as much as a model train, a telescope, a set of leather bound classics, or a twenty thousand dollar wristwatch would have inspired him, I might someday get my wish. He likes it when I’m happy. (He also likes it when we can pay the mortgage, and that comes first.)  I have no problem asking for ridiculous things again and again in hopes of him getting to the point of just wanting me to shut up about it already!  So far that has not happened.  He is tough.

My birthdays, (natal and AA,) fall in the same week as Christmas.  This was poor planning on my part as far as the AA birthday goes, but I’m not willing to change my date.  We also have three grand children with December birthdays and four January birthdays.  It is an expensive time of year for our family.  I don’t think that should matter, but it does.  Usually what happens is that Tom, who is among the January crowd, gets sale items or nothing for his birthday.  Or, as in years when I am organized, I purchase the January birthday presents while shopping for Christmas.  This makes the January bills a package to dread.  Still, a birthday is a birthday.

Some other good things about being labeled old are that it is acceptable to take a nap.  Some old people don’t take naps.  I am not one of those.  In fact, I have always been a nap-taker.  Even when I was young and still in my twenties. When I was working I took a little power nap in my office or my car, almost every day.  I hated the times when I was working in New York, and management would schedule a meeting at one or two o’clock in the afternoon.  That was torture! Jet-lag at nap time! There is nothing worse than the feeling of fighting sleep in a boring meeting or while watching a play or during a car ride.  Especially if I’m the one driving.  That is a scary thing!!

Now every one of my friends and family knows that I take a nap.  I don’t apologize for it or make excuses.  It’s part of my routine, unless there is something fun to be done.  I can make it through the afternoon- slump with two lattes and something fun, as I did when I served on jury duty. (Which was sort of a miracle, the staying awake and alert part) and when we were in Italy.  That was the fun part.

Last night was Halloween night.  I did not go trick-or-treating.  We did however; go over to Shelley’s to see the grandkids in their costumes.  This is what old people do.  They go to see their adorable grandkids in costume as dragons and knights, little devils, flappers and ghouls,the chihuahua was dressed as a bat, while the kids, their parents, (who are not yet old, but will be soon,) wear sexy costumes as spiders and goddesses, while sipping wine and munching on fancy nibbles.  Then Tom and I came home to pass out candy to the neighbor kids, eat chicken salad and grapes and watch the news.  The kids don’t watch the news.  They do not care to know about the latest scary events happening in the world, or who is running for what in the election. They trust that, (whether they want to know or not,) I will tell them.  I think they should know.

Now it is Monday, and another spectacularly beautiful day.  It is cooler in the mornings and requires a sweater over my Gap nightie.  I have a full day planned mostly of fun.  I have put out more decorations for fall and have got to remember to make a list of things to order for Thanksgiving and Christmas.  Usually I have already ordered my Christmas tree by now but I’ve decided that the trees I’ve ordered from North Carolina for the past three years are too expensive in this economy.  Nobody cares about the origins of my Christmas tree; they just want to have one.  Did I mention I need to make a list?  Oh yes.  I see that I have.  That’s another thing my friend, (who will be old as well in less than a decade) has informed me that I do a lot.  I repeat myself.  Uh, huh.  Yes, it is true.

Some things need to be repeated.  I love you.  I love my life!  I’m grateful. I love my friends! I'm happy.  I’m very grateful!  I love you!  You get the picture.

My life is so glamorous!  It’s just not fair, lucky for me!!

 

 

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