Some days life is really tough...then I get out of bed...

Everyone has been after me to add to my blog...I have been incredibly busy. I know that is no excuse, however, I shall use it any way. I have also been incredibly tired and and quite distracted trying to take care of a brother who is very ill.  I am so saddened with how I have failed this man. He needs to be nurtured and nursed back to health both physically and emotionally....but he doesn't know how to let that happen. So whatz a woman to do?

I have decided most definitely that getting old really stinks...be not deceived..."senior cokes," "Senior movie fares," and other "Senior discounts" just don't make up for not being young any more. I've decided I probably will no longer touch up my graying hair, I do not care that my face is wrinkled, and that spreading middle only concerns me because of my propensity to Type II Diabetes and my blood sugar plays games with me. I just want my back to be straighter in the mornings and my knees not to hurt when I over exert myself for too long.

Have I ever told you my ambition is to be a wealthy novelist?  I no longer care about being a novelist....just novel...and wealthy. My brother tells me I talk like "Hemingway on Crack"--whatever that means....sometimes he refers to me as "Barbara Walters on crack"...whatever that means. Actually, I believe I have reached the "purple stage" in my life...Yeah, you got it...purple....Surely you have read Jenny Joseph's "When I Am An Old Woman, I Shall Wear Purple---So--read it again:

Warning - When I Am an Old Woman I Shall Wear Purple

By Jenny Joseph

When I am an old woman, I shall wear purple

with a red hat that doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.

And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves

and satin candles, and say we've no money for butter.

I shall sit down on the pavement when I am tired

and gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells

and run my stick along the public railings

and make up for the sobriety of my youth.

I shall go out in my slippers in the rain

and pick the flowers in other people's gardens

and learn to spit.

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat

and eat three pounds of sausages at a go

or only bread and pickles for a week

and hoard pens and pencils and beer nuts and things in boxes.

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry

and pay our rent and not swear in the street

and set a good example for the children.

We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.

But maybe I ought to practice a little now?

So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised

When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.

What are satin candles?  I do not believe I have ever heard of them prior to having read this poem. 

Well, this old woman is in dire need of retiring to her bed chamber and to her bed. But no matter, I am fairly certain the sun will come up tomorrow...dang it all....I probably should move to Alaska so I could have some 6 month nights...ahhh, extended slumber. 

Do you know where the expression "Three Dog Night" originated? You probably do...as hot as it has been the past few days, I could use a couple of three dog nights...For anyone who doesn't know the "dog night" origin...it is an expression in the cold, cold north where people travel by sled and dog....depending on how cold the nights were depended on how many dogs you needed to sleep with you  to keep you warm....so it it took 3 dogs...that night was considered a "Three Dog Night"...Yep, right up there with a five-cow wife...but that will wait for another time. My dogs are barking, my head hurts, my back is pleading for relief, and my bed beckons me onward....Tomorrow is another day...and I shall think about all that tomorrow...