Spring Fever is here!
I'm going out to look for the first flower that blooms in this high mountain country, the pale blue with yellow stamina of the Pasqueflower. The sun is shinning and there is just a light breeze out. Crunching through the fallen, dry pine needles made me think of all the spring rituals this time of year and how they evolved.
Spring Rites from my book, "Cooking with Memories in Historic Georgetown, Colorado".
The egg is definitely the symbol for Spring rites. Here's a myth from the Mid-eastern cultures that you may find interesting. They believed that the earth was hatched from a giant egg. Wouldn't want to run into that egg-layer anytime soon.
From the Egyptians, Persians and Chinese, we contribute the practice of dying pastel eggs. They would give them to their friends as a symbol of renewed life. Decorated hollow eggs were found in Egyptian tombs as amulets to help the soul find rebirth. Druids dyed eggs red in Spring to honor the sun.
As early as 1290, bookkeepers for England's King Edward I, recorded a charge of eighteen pence to purchase 450 gold-leafed and colored eggs as Easter gifts.
There have been many Spring Festivals over the years - Ostara, Eostre, Easter, Vernal Equinox, Spring Equinox and the First Day of Spring that all occur during mid-March to early April. The goddess, Ostara or Eostre, is always portrayed with a basket of eggs and a hare or rabbit beside her, marking the sun warming the earth, the appearance of new buds and the greening of the earth.
In Russia, the Krasnjo Gorka tradition still continues today. A woman holding a red egg and a round loaf of bread faces east, sings a spring song with the crowds, then takes a husk doll who represents Marzena, Grandmother Winter, throwing it out at the edge if the village or physically destroying it. Thus she ends Winter.
I found the story about the Easter basket fascinating. Before the chicken was domesticated, these wild chickens would fly into trees to roost and nest. The people would climb trees to hunt for both hen and other bird eggs in the bird nests. This could have been the start of the woven egg basket.
Bird's eggs are often lightly pastel colored and/or speckled in nature to protect them from predators. Could this have been the creative force for starting to color and decorate eggs?
How many of you have been part of an egg rolling contest? Where did this custom originate? In the Slavic countries, decorating hard boiled eggs, then rolling them along the fields represents the transfer of fertility of the egg to the earth for good crops.
If you have been to a sunrise service to celebrate the risen Christ, another sunrise service celebrated long ago that you might not know about is the ancient spring ritual of building bonfires at Dawn to symbolize the triumph of light and life over death and darkness.
Spring Festivals were the first customs for planting new ideas, new goals for the coming year, new business or new activities to be started. Celebrate a new day. Springtime in the Rockies is near.Spring Fever is here!
I'm going out to look for the first flower that blooms in this high mountain country, the pale blue with yellow stamina of the Pasqueflower. The sun is shinning and there is just a light breeze out. Crunching through the fallen, dry pine needles made me think of all the spring rituals this time of year and how they evolved.
Spring Rites from my book, "Cooking with Memories in Historic Georgetown, Colorado".
The egg is definitely the symbol for Spring rites. Here's a myth from the Mid-eastern cultures that you may find interesting. They believed that the earth was hatched from a giant egg. Wouldn't want to run into that egg-layer anytime soon.
From the Egyptians, Persians and Chinese, we contribute the practice of dying pastel eggs. They would give them to their friends as a symbol of renewed life. Decorated hollow eggs were found in Egyptian tombs as amulets to help the soul find rebirth. Druids dyed eggs red in Spring to honor the sun.
As early as 1290, bookkeepers for England's King Edward I, recorded a charge of eighteen pence to purchase 450 gold-leafed and colored eggs as Easter gifts.
There have been many Spring Festivals over the years - Ostara, Eostre, Easter, Vernal Equinox, Spring Equinox and the First Day of Spring that all occur during mid-March to early April. The goddess, Ostara or Eostre, is always portrayed with a basket of eggs and a hare or rabbit beside her, marking the sun warming the earth, the appearance of new buds and the greening of the earth.
In Russia, the Krasnjo Gorka tradition still continues today. A woman holding a red egg and a round loaf of bread faces east, sings a spring song with the crowds, then takes a husk doll who represents Marzena, Grandmother Winter, throwing it out at the edge if the village or physically destroying it. Thus she ends Winter.
I found the story about the Easter basket fascinating. Before the chicken was domesticated, these wild chickens would fly into trees to roost and nest. The people would climb trees to hunt for both hen and other bird eggs in the bird nests. This could have been the start of the woven egg basket.
Bird's eggs are often lightly pastel colored and/or speckled in nature to protect them from predators. Could this have been the creative force for starting to color and decorate eggs?
How many of you have been part of an egg rolling contest? Where did this custom originate? In the Slavic countries, decorating hard boiled eggs, then rolling them along the fields represents the transfer of fertility of the egg to the earth for good crops.
If you have been to a sunrise service to celebrate the risen Christ, another sunrise service celebrated long ago that you might not know about is the ancient spring ritual of building bonfires at Dawn to symbolize the triumph of light and life over death and darkness.
Spring Festivals were the first customs for planting new ideas, new goals for the coming year, new business or new activities to be started. Celebrate a new day. Springtime in the Rockies is near.Spring Fever is here!
I'm going out to look for the first flower that blooms in this high mountain country, the pale blue with yellow stamina of the Pasqueflower. The sun is shinning and there is just a light breeze out. Crunching through the fallen, dry pine needles made me think of all the spring rituals this time of year and how they evolved.
Spring Rites from my book, "Cooking with Memories in Historic Georgetown, Colorado".
The egg is definitely the symbol for Spring rites. Here's a myth from the Mid-eastern cultures that you may find interesting. They believed that the earth was hatched from a giant egg. Wouldn't want to run into that egg-layer anytime soon.
From the Egyptians, Persians and Chinese, we contribute the practice of dying pastel eggs. They would give them to their friends as a symbol of renewed life. Decorated hollow eggs were found in Egyptian tombs as amulets to help the soul find rebirth. Druids dyed eggs red in Spring to honor the sun.
As early as 1290, bookkeepers for England's King Edward I, recorded a charge of eighteen pence to purchase 450 gold-leafed and colored eggs as Easter gifts.
There have been many Spring Festivals over the years - Ostara, Eostre, Easter, Vernal Equinox, Spring Equinox and the First Day of Spring that all occur during mid-March to early April. The goddess, Ostara or Eostre, is always portrayed with a basket of eggs and a hare or rabbit beside her, marking the sun warming the earth, the appearance of new buds and the greening of the earth.
In Russia, the Krasnjo Gorka tradition still continues today. A woman holding a red egg and a round loaf of bread faces east, sings a spring song with the crowds, then takes a husk doll who represents Marzena, Grandmother Winter, throwing it out at the edge if the village or physically destroying it. Thus she ends Winter.
I found the story about the Easter basket fascinating. Before the chicken was domesticated, these wild chickens would fly into trees to roost and nest. The people would climb trees to hunt for both hen and other bird eggs in the bird nests. This could have been the start of the woven egg basket.
Bird's eggs are often lightly pastel colored and/or speckled in nature to protect them from predators. Could this have been the creative force for starting to color and decorate eggs?
How many of you have been part of an egg rolling contest? Where did this custom originate? In the Slavic countries, decorating hard boiled eggs, then rolling them along the fields represents the transfer of fertility of the egg to the earth for good crops.
If you have been to a sunrise service to celebrate the risen Christ, another sunrise service celebrated long ago that you might not know about is the ancient spring ritual of building bonfires at Dawn to symbolize the triumph of light and life over death and darkness.
Spring Festivals were the first customs for planting new ideas, new goals for the coming year, new business or new activities to be started. Celebrate a new day. Springtime in the Rockies is near.Spring Fever is here!
I'm going out to look for the first flower that blooms in this high mountain country, the pale blue with yellow stamina of the Pasqueflower. The sun is shinning and there is just a light breeze out. Crunching through the fallen, dry pine needles made me think of all the spring rituals this time of year and how they evolved.
Spring Rites from my book, "Cooking with Memories in Historic Georgetown, Colorado".
The egg is definitely the symbol for Spring rites. Here's a myth from the Mid-eastern cultures that you may find interesting. They believed that the earth was hatched from a giant egg. Wouldn't want to run into that egg-layer anytime soon.
From the Egyptians, Persians and Chinese, we contribute the practice of dying pastel eggs. They would give them to their friends as a symbol of renewed life. Decorated hollow eggs were found in Egyptian tombs as amulets to help the soul find rebirth. Druids dyed eggs red in Spring to honor the sun.
As early as 1290, bookkeepers for England's King Edward I, recorded a charge of eighteen pence to purchase 450 gold-leafed and colored eggs as Easter gifts.
There have been many Spring Festivals over the years - Ostara, Eostre, Easter, Vernal Equinox, Spring Equinox and the First Day of Spring that all occur during mid-March to early April. The goddess, Ostara or Eostre, is always portrayed with a basket of eggs and a hare or rabbit beside her, marking the sun warming the earth, the appearance of new buds and the greening of the earth.
In Russia, the Krasnjo Gorka tradition still continues today. A woman holding a red egg and a round loaf of bread faces east, sings a spring song with the crowds, then takes a husk doll who represents Marzena, Grandmother Winter, throwing it out at the edge if the village or physically destroying it. Thus she ends Winter.
I found the story about the Easter basket fascinating. Before the chicken was domesticated, these wild chickens would fly into trees to roost and nest. The people would climb trees to hunt for both hen and other bird eggs in the bird nests. This could have been the start of the woven egg basket.
Bird's eggs are often lightly pastel colored and/or speckled in nature to protect them from predators. Could this have been the creative force for starting to color and decorate eggs?
How many of you have been part of an egg rolling contest? Where did this custom originate? In the Slavic countries, decorating hard boiled eggs, then rolling them along the fields represents the transfer of fertility of the egg to the earth for good crops.
If you have been to a sunrise service to celebrate the risen Christ, another sunrise service celebrated long ago that you might not know about is the ancient spring ritual of building bonfires at Dawn to symbolize the triumph of light and life over death and darkness.
Spring Festivals were the first customs for planting new ideas, new goals for the coming year, new business or new activities to be started. Celebrate a new day. Springtime in the Rockies is near.W
Monday, July 16, 2018
Splat, again.
This was about two & 1/2 years ago. My times flies.
Update: Again November 1st, I had another really bad fall in my daughter's driveway, ended with a ride in a First Responders ambulance to the emergency room where they found a tumor on my adrenal gland. Operation in April removed the whole gland.
I still get dizzy and fainted last September when working for the Visitor Center.
I'm living with these facts of life and still enjoying every day!
blog from 2014
"When you are in your seventies, you do NOT want to fall. Even remembering where there is a step, is sometimes fleeting. Yesterday at my daughter’s, I was walking with my glass of water and my iPad following her to watch "20 Feet from Famous" movie on their big TV screen. Her husband and my granddaughter were waiting. And yes, we were talking, I know not what about now. Thump, I see my self falling toward the wood floor entryway, water hitting the floor before me in large splashes everywhere, my iPad skittering across the floor like it’s an ice rink. My knee hits the top step of the entry, hard and I am down, still holding my glass, now with very little water in it. My daughter turns around to find me splayed out across the floor.
I am so embarrassed at the mess I’ve just created and frightened that I might have broken something I cannot recover from. My knee hurts and I imagine there is wet sticky blood coming through my black jeans.
Then it happens. A slow welling of tears I cannot stop, and a deep wail comes out of my mouth. The flood cannot be stopped or the sobbing either. My daughter is concerned and wants to know if I’m hurt. Between sobs, I tell her no, I’m fine. I’m standing upright now, so nothing is broken. Then I try to get out an apology for the mess I’ve created. She keeps such a neat house, and I have totally destroyed that with water everywhere. She is still trying to understand what happened and what the heck I’m saying, to no avail.
I’m apologizing for everything and trying to ask for a towel to clean it up, but she can’t figure out what I’m saying. She repeats, “What happened?” This of course starts another bout of sobs when I think that I didn’t even see the two steps up to the hallway. I have known those steps have been there for the decades she has lived here. Slobbering on, I try to get out that that my eyes are not what they use to be and I hate getting old - etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.
She mops up the water and tries to calm me down, but every time, my emotions seem to be subsiding, I think about getting old, blind, feeble and dangerous to others, here it comes again. I am not only embarrassed now, but angry at myself for not being able to get control.
I’m not going to go into the family room and watch a movie and upset everyone, So I tell my daughter, I’m going to my bedroom and lay down… for the night! Nothing she says makes any sense and I’m sure nothing I say makes any sense, so up I go.
She came in to check on me after the movie, which, you guessed it, started the water works again, but no sobbing, so I knew I was better. I did have a bruise near my knee, but nothing else. Finally the house settled down and I slept like a log. As the saying goes, this GETTING OLD IS NOT FOR SThis was about two & 1/2 years ago. My times flies.
Update: Again November 1st, I had another really bad fall in my daughter's driveway, ended with a ride in a First Responders ambulance to the emergency room where they found a tumor on my adrenal gland. Operation in April removed the whole gland.
I still get dizzy and fainted last September when working for the Visitor Center.
I'm living with these facts of life and still enjoying every day!
blog from 2014
"When you are in your seventies, you do NOT want to fall. Even remembering where there is a step, is sometimes fleeting. Yesterday at my daughter’s, I was walking with my glass of water and my iPad following her to watch "20 Feet from Famous" movie on their big TV screen. Her husband and my granddaughter were waiting. And yes, we were talking, I know not what about now. Thump, I see my self falling toward the wood floor entryway, water hitting the floor before me in large splashes everywhere, my iPad skittering across the floor like it’s an ice rink. My knee hits the top step of the entry, hard and I am down, still holding my glass, now with very little water in it. My daughter turns around to find me splayed out across the floor.
I am so embarrassed at the mess I’ve just created and frightened that I might have broken something I cannot recover from. My knee hurts and I imagine there is wet sticky blood coming through my black jeans.
Then it happens. A slow welling of tears I cannot stop, and a deep wail comes out of my mouth. The flood cannot be stopped or the sobbing either. My daughter is concerned and wants to know if I’m hurt. Between sobs, I tell her no, I’m fine. I’m standing upright now, so nothing is broken. Then I try to get out an apology for the mess I’ve created. She keeps such a neat house, and I have totally destroyed that with water everywhere. She is still trying to understand what happened and what the heck I’m saying, to no avail.
I’m apologizing for everything and trying to ask for a towel to clean it up, but she can’t figure out what I’m saying. She repeats, “What happened?” This of course starts another bout of sobs when I think that I didn’t even see the two steps up to the hallway. I have known those steps have been there for the decades she has lived here. Slobbering on, I try to get out that that my eyes are not what they use to be and I hate getting old - etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.
She mops up the water and tries to calm me down, but every time, my emotions seem to be subsiding, I think about getting old, blind, feeble and dangerous to others, here it comes again. I am not only embarrassed now, but angry at myself for not being able to get control.
I’m not going to go into the family room and watch a movie and upset everyone, So I tell my daughter, I’m going to my bedroom and lay down… for the night! Nothing she says makes any sense and I’m sure nothing I say makes any sense, so up I go.
She came in to check on me after the movie, which, you guessed it, started the water works again, but no sobbing, so I knew I was better. I did have a bruise near my knee, but nothing else. Finally the house settled down and I slept like a log. As the saying goes, this GETTING OLD IS NOT FOR SISSIES."This was about two & 1/2 years ago. My times flies.
Update: Again November 1st, I had another really bad fall in my daughter's driveway, ended with a ride in a First Responders ambulance to the emergency room where they found a tumor on my adrenal gland. Operation in April removed the whole gland.
I still get dizzy and fainted last September when working for the Visitor Center.
I'm living with these facts of life and still enjoying every day!
blog from 2014
"When you are in your seventies, you do NOT want to fall. Even remembering where there is a step, is sometimes fleeting. Yesterday at my daughter’s, I was walking with my glass of water and my iPad following her to watch "20 Feet from Famous" movie on their big TV screen. Her husband and my granddaughter were waiting. And yes, we were talking, I know not what about now. Thump, I see my self falling toward the wood floor entryway, water hitting the floor before me in large splashes everywhere, my iPad skittering across the floor like it’s an ice rink. My knee hits the top step of the entry, hard and I am down, still holding my glass, now with very little water in it. My daughter turns around to find me splayed out across the floor.
I am so embarrassed at the mess I’ve just created and frightened that I might have broken something I cannot recover from. My knee hurts and I imagine there is wet sticky blood coming through my black jeans.
Then it happens. A slow welling of tears I cannot stop, and a deep wail comes out of my mouth. The flood cannot be stopped or the sobbing either. My daughter is concerned and wants to know if I’m hurt. Between sobs, I tell her no, I’m fine. I’m standing upright now, so nothing is broken. Then I try to get out an apology for the mess I’ve created. She keeps such a neat house, and I have totally destroyed that with water everywhere. She is still trying to understand what happened and what the heck I’m saying, to no avail.
I’m apologizing for everything and trying to ask for a towel to clean it up, but she can’t figure out what I’m saying. She repeats, “What happened?” This of course starts another bout of sobs when I think that I didn’t even see the two steps up to the hallway. I have known those steps have been there for the decades she has lived here. Slobbering on, I try to get out that that my eyes are not what they use to be and I hate getting old - etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.
She mops up the water and tries to calm me down, but every time, my emotions seem to be subsiding, I think about getting old, blind, feeble and dangerous to others, here it comes again. I am not only embarrassed now, but angry at myself for not being able to get control.
I’m not going to go into the family room and watch a movie and upset everyone, So I tell my daughter, I’m going to my bedroom and lay down… for the night! Nothing she says makes any sense and I’m sure nothing I say makes any sense, so up I go.
She came in to check on me after the movie, which, you guessed it, started the water works again, but no sobbing, so I knew I was better. I did have a bruise near my knee, but nothing else. Finally the house settled down and I slept like a log. As the saying goes, this GETTING OLD IS NOT FOR SISSIES."
Update: Again November 1st, I had another really bad fall in my daughter's driveway, ended with a ride in a First Responders ambulance to the emergency room where they found a tumor on my adrenal gland. Operation in April removed the whole gland.
I still get dizzy and fainted last September when working for the Visitor Center.
I'm living with these facts of life and still enjoying every day!
blog from 2014
"When you are in your seventies, you do NOT want to fall. Even remembering where there is a step, is sometimes fleeting. Yesterday at my daughter’s, I was walking with my glass of water and my iPad following her to watch "20 Feet from Famous" movie on their big TV screen. Her husband and my granddaughter were waiting. And yes, we were talking, I know not what about now. Thump, I see my self falling toward the wood floor entryway, water hitting the floor before me in large splashes everywhere, my iPad skittering across the floor like it’s an ice rink. My knee hits the top step of the entry, hard and I am down, still holding my glass, now with very little water in it. My daughter turns around to find me splayed out across the floor.
I am so embarrassed at the mess I’ve just created and frightened that I might have broken something I cannot recover from. My knee hurts and I imagine there is wet sticky blood coming through my black jeans.
Then it happens. A slow welling of tears I cannot stop, and a deep wail comes out of my mouth. The flood cannot be stopped or the sobbing either. My daughter is concerned and wants to know if I’m hurt. Between sobs, I tell her no, I’m fine. I’m standing upright now, so nothing is broken. Then I try to get out an apology for the mess I’ve created. She keeps such a neat house, and I have totally destroyed that with water everywhere. She is still trying to understand what happened and what the heck I’m saying, to no avail.
I’m apologizing for everything and trying to ask for a towel to clean it up, but she can’t figure out what I’m saying. She repeats, “What happened?” This of course starts another bout of sobs when I think that I didn’t even see the two steps up to the hallway. I have known those steps have been there for the decades she has lived here. Slobbering on, I try to get out that that my eyes are not what they use to be and I hate getting old - etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.
She mops up the water and tries to calm me down, but every time, my emotions seem to be subsiding, I think about getting old, blind, feeble and dangerous to others, here it comes again. I am not only embarrassed now, but angry at myself for not being able to get control.
I’m not going to go into the family room and watch a movie and upset everyone, So I tell my daughter, I’m going to my bedroom and lay down… for the night! Nothing she says makes any sense and I’m sure nothing I say makes any sense, so up I go.
She came in to check on me after the movie, which, you guessed it, started the water works again, but no sobbing, so I knew I was better. I did have a bruise near my knee, but nothing else. Finally the house settled down and I slept like a log. As the saying goes, this GETTING OLD IS NOT FOR SThis was about two & 1/2 years ago. My times flies.
Update: Again November 1st, I had another really bad fall in my daughter's driveway, ended with a ride in a First Responders ambulance to the emergency room where they found a tumor on my adrenal gland. Operation in April removed the whole gland.
I still get dizzy and fainted last September when working for the Visitor Center.
I'm living with these facts of life and still enjoying every day!
blog from 2014
"When you are in your seventies, you do NOT want to fall. Even remembering where there is a step, is sometimes fleeting. Yesterday at my daughter’s, I was walking with my glass of water and my iPad following her to watch "20 Feet from Famous" movie on their big TV screen. Her husband and my granddaughter were waiting. And yes, we were talking, I know not what about now. Thump, I see my self falling toward the wood floor entryway, water hitting the floor before me in large splashes everywhere, my iPad skittering across the floor like it’s an ice rink. My knee hits the top step of the entry, hard and I am down, still holding my glass, now with very little water in it. My daughter turns around to find me splayed out across the floor.
I am so embarrassed at the mess I’ve just created and frightened that I might have broken something I cannot recover from. My knee hurts and I imagine there is wet sticky blood coming through my black jeans.
Then it happens. A slow welling of tears I cannot stop, and a deep wail comes out of my mouth. The flood cannot be stopped or the sobbing either. My daughter is concerned and wants to know if I’m hurt. Between sobs, I tell her no, I’m fine. I’m standing upright now, so nothing is broken. Then I try to get out an apology for the mess I’ve created. She keeps such a neat house, and I have totally destroyed that with water everywhere. She is still trying to understand what happened and what the heck I’m saying, to no avail.
I’m apologizing for everything and trying to ask for a towel to clean it up, but she can’t figure out what I’m saying. She repeats, “What happened?” This of course starts another bout of sobs when I think that I didn’t even see the two steps up to the hallway. I have known those steps have been there for the decades she has lived here. Slobbering on, I try to get out that that my eyes are not what they use to be and I hate getting old - etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.
She mops up the water and tries to calm me down, but every time, my emotions seem to be subsiding, I think about getting old, blind, feeble and dangerous to others, here it comes again. I am not only embarrassed now, but angry at myself for not being able to get control.
I’m not going to go into the family room and watch a movie and upset everyone, So I tell my daughter, I’m going to my bedroom and lay down… for the night! Nothing she says makes any sense and I’m sure nothing I say makes any sense, so up I go.
She came in to check on me after the movie, which, you guessed it, started the water works again, but no sobbing, so I knew I was better. I did have a bruise near my knee, but nothing else. Finally the house settled down and I slept like a log. As the saying goes, this GETTING OLD IS NOT FOR SISSIES."This was about two & 1/2 years ago. My times flies.
Update: Again November 1st, I had another really bad fall in my daughter's driveway, ended with a ride in a First Responders ambulance to the emergency room where they found a tumor on my adrenal gland. Operation in April removed the whole gland.
I still get dizzy and fainted last September when working for the Visitor Center.
I'm living with these facts of life and still enjoying every day!
blog from 2014
"When you are in your seventies, you do NOT want to fall. Even remembering where there is a step, is sometimes fleeting. Yesterday at my daughter’s, I was walking with my glass of water and my iPad following her to watch "20 Feet from Famous" movie on their big TV screen. Her husband and my granddaughter were waiting. And yes, we were talking, I know not what about now. Thump, I see my self falling toward the wood floor entryway, water hitting the floor before me in large splashes everywhere, my iPad skittering across the floor like it’s an ice rink. My knee hits the top step of the entry, hard and I am down, still holding my glass, now with very little water in it. My daughter turns around to find me splayed out across the floor.
I am so embarrassed at the mess I’ve just created and frightened that I might have broken something I cannot recover from. My knee hurts and I imagine there is wet sticky blood coming through my black jeans.
Then it happens. A slow welling of tears I cannot stop, and a deep wail comes out of my mouth. The flood cannot be stopped or the sobbing either. My daughter is concerned and wants to know if I’m hurt. Between sobs, I tell her no, I’m fine. I’m standing upright now, so nothing is broken. Then I try to get out an apology for the mess I’ve created. She keeps such a neat house, and I have totally destroyed that with water everywhere. She is still trying to understand what happened and what the heck I’m saying, to no avail.
I’m apologizing for everything and trying to ask for a towel to clean it up, but she can’t figure out what I’m saying. She repeats, “What happened?” This of course starts another bout of sobs when I think that I didn’t even see the two steps up to the hallway. I have known those steps have been there for the decades she has lived here. Slobbering on, I try to get out that that my eyes are not what they use to be and I hate getting old - etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.
She mops up the water and tries to calm me down, but every time, my emotions seem to be subsiding, I think about getting old, blind, feeble and dangerous to others, here it comes again. I am not only embarrassed now, but angry at myself for not being able to get control.
I’m not going to go into the family room and watch a movie and upset everyone, So I tell my daughter, I’m going to my bedroom and lay down… for the night! Nothing she says makes any sense and I’m sure nothing I say makes any sense, so up I go.
She came in to check on me after the movie, which, you guessed it, started the water works again, but no sobbing, so I knew I was better. I did have a bruise near my knee, but nothing else. Finally the house settled down and I slept like a log. As the saying goes, this GETTING OLD IS NOT FOR SISSIES."
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