Jewelry over the years....

Over the years, my jewelry box has changed as have my habits. As a teenager in the 60s, jewelry was kept to a minimum. Maybe some pearls for special occasions, but that was it. 

Who's old?

I've always said I couldn't possibly be a senior because I was never middle-aged. Middle-age was always at least ten years older than me. Well, that argument went out the window when I hit 70. There's something about being a septuagenarian that changes your perspective.

C or See Me

Have you ever felt invisible? I have. Not most times. In fact, I sometimes feel too visible. Most of my life I worried about how I looked, how I sounded, how I appeared to others. Now in my 70s, I worry less about what others think of me. I'm still me. I haven't changed. Well, except for looking older...

Compliments & Kindness

I thought about this incident last night before I fell asleep. On a recent cruise, a younger woman we met (maybe in her 40s) said this to me after meeting Stu and I and chatting a while. "I don't mean to be mean, but I thought you were his mother." Um, really?

Crooked....

My body seems to have an affinity to crooked seams. I remember wearing stockings with seams (many years ago) and it was always difficult to get them straight. Now it's my newer leggings with seams. I pull them on straight, I swear I do, but next thing I know, they're crooked. 

On being a septagenarian

I turned seventy last September. Guess what? It didn't bother me! Nope, not one little bit. In fact, I felt proud that I'd made it. While I still have a couple of years to live longer than my father, I've way surpassed my mother who died at sixty-one.