Some Things Friday for August 22, 2008

I took my Real Age test back a few months ago and updated it again this morning. My actual age is 62.2 years old, but my "Real Age" is 59.8 years, up 6 months from when I took it last. Crap, I'm still aging.

But my skin still looks pretty good. Mind you, I do have some wrinkles, but I try to take pretty good care of my skin. I've been using Estee Lauder products since my mid-30's. I think using the same line of products provides some consistency, however, the names of the products now include words like "extra," "anti-wrinkle" and "repair." I also use a honey/almond scrub occasionally that is not in the Estee Lauder line. It actually has ground almonds in it so when I apply it to my face, it feels like I'm rubbing off the top layer of my skin. I guess I was hoping the wrinkles were only one layer deep. No such luck, but I use it anyway... just in case. So, anyway, my skin is somewhere between "smooth as a baby's butt" and "wrinkled as a prune," and I'll leave it at that.

Moving right along. . .

Some Things I Love:

1. I want to send all my love, support and comfort to my sister, Karen, whose best friend is dying of cancer.

2. Today is Mike and Kathy's wedding anniversary. I will deal with that in another post. I will merely say here that I love them very much and wish them many more years of happiness together.

3. Goldie is now heart worm free or, as Michelle at our vet's office put it, the party is over. The great thing is that we can now begin to take her for long walks and maybe a run or two. That's what Tom has been doing the last three evenings, but last night he ran her quite a bit. When they got back, Tom let her out into the back yard where she could drink some water. She was panting so hard and fast that she could hardly control her tongue to lap up the water and she splashed it everywhere. It's no different than a human, I suppose, when we exercise really hard, probably beyond our normal capabilities, it takes a while to catch our breath. When I let her in, she ran to the den and laid there panting (pant, pant, pant, pant) really fast for quite a long time and looked right at me while I was folding the laundry. Every time I would look down, she was looking at me. When I left the den and went into the kitchen, she moved to the doorway and laid there panting, but looking at me. Poor thing, I thought, I know exactly how you feel. I'm old and fat, too, and it's a bitch to get back in shape!

4. We didn't really have a great spring this year. The weather went from cold to hot. Well, now we are having spring-like weather and it's been great. Temps in the low 80's, occasional thunderstorms and some heavy rain. Look what it has done for my pampas grass! Last summer they only bloomed a couple of fronds on each plant. All of these puffy fronds have come out in just the last week and a half. Considering this is only their second summer and they started out in gallon containers, they look amazing don't they!



5. I couldn't find my "life" book. It's a small leather bound notebook with a lined tablet on one side and pockets on the other. It's not really an organizer because I don't use a calendar or anything, but I keep my old Christmas lists, all the paint chips for all the rooms and trim in the house, business cards, notes to myself, post-its, paper clips and a pen in that little notebook and I take it with me everywhere I go so I always have my notes with me. When I travel, I do the mapquest thing and put my directions in it ~ from home to the destination hotel ~ from the destination hotel to the house or other location ~ reverse directions home. I don't go anywhere without it, but I could not find it anywhere. I looked in every drawer, every purse, every cabinet, every closet multiple times for about 2 weeks. No deal. I was sure I had lost it; maybe left in a cart at Home Depot or Lowes or Kroger; I had no idea where else to look. I was almost in tears. Now, when Tom was growing up Catholic (bear with me... this will make sense...eventually), he had all these little prayers he used to say for everything and I remembered one of them was a prayer for lost items. Did you know there was a Saint of lost things? I didn't. Anyway, he would say this little prayer, Please Saint Anthony, look around, something's lost and must be found. Amen. Simple little prayer, right? Although I'm not Catholic, I thought, hell (maybe I shouldn't have started with the word "hell") what can it hurt. Besides, I was desperate. Well, I sort of remembered the prayer and, although I didn't get the actual saint quite right, I was very sincere. So I sat in a chair, took a couple of deep breaths, closed my eyes, clasped my hands together in my lap and said, "Please Saint Christopher, come on down, something's lost and must be found." I felt pretty silly saying "come on down." It made me think of the Price is Right. Anyway, I sat there for a minute and thought about where I should look and had a little mental argument with myself. Okay, look in the Chrysler. No, I've already looked in the Chrysler three times, under the seats, in the glove box, in the trunk, everywhere! Well, look again. No, it's not in there. I've looked in the Chrysler and I've even scoured the Expedition, too. LOOK IN THE CHRYSLER! So, I went to the laundry room, opened the garage door and stood there for a second looking at the Chrysler. Then I walked over to the passenger side, opened the door and looked under the front passenger seat and THERE WAS MY FREAKIN' BOOK!! When Tom came home from the lake, I told him I had found my book and after some discussion about where I found it and all the times I looked in the car, etc, I asked him about the prayer he used to say as a kid when he lost something. He said that, yeah, he used to say a prayer to Saint Anthony, (oh, crap, wrong saint) the Patron Saint of lost items.

ME: "Oops. I prayed to the wrong Saint. I didn't remember it was Saint Anthony and I prayed to Saint Christopher."

TOM: "Saint Christopher is the Patron Saint of Safe Travel."

ME: "Yeah, well, I realize that now. But it worked anyway because I found the book!"

TOM: "So, Saint Christopher was actually pretty close then because you found it in the car!"


Some Things I Hate:

1. Politics this year.

2. That our flip has not sold. Yes, I am now starting to freak out. It will be on the market a year next month.

3. I have decided I don't like driving trips. I use to, but not any more. I'm old, I get tired easier and it's harder and takes longer to recuperate.

4. Zits. Not on other people... on me. I got a couple of zits on my chin the other day. What the hell is that? I am far...far...far...from puberty!

5. Bright orange or yellow blonde hair with gray roots on old, old ladies...older than me. However, when I turn 80 and I dye my hair and think it looks really good, I trust you will keep your mouth shut.

Some Things I Just Don't Get:

1. Who are the Jonas Brothers??

2. People who judge others based solely on where they live.

3. I haven't watch one Olympic event. It's not that I don't like the Olympics. I do. I am thrilled for Michael Phelps, the women's soccer team, the volleyball players and all the other medal winners. But, this time, I just don't have the desire to watch them achieve their lifelong dreams. It's almost un-American.

4. When I was younger I couldn't get my fingernails to grow, so in my late 30's and 40's I had acrylic nails. Every other week I would make my trek to Belinda's house for a "fill" and manicure. When we moved, I couldn't find anyone as good as Belinda, so I took the acrylics off and tried to let my fingernails grow. Forget it. They always cracked, then peeled and I'd have to cut them and start all over. I tried nail polish, nail hardeners, Knox gelatin, almond oil... nothing worked. Then about 5 or 6 years ago, after working on the farm ~ feeding and grooming animals, gardening, mixing cement, cutting limbs, helping mend or remove fences ~ I decided to keep them really short and, on a good day, use a little clear nail polish. And, wouldn't you know it, now, when I WANT them short because I'm gardening, painting and grouting, my fingernails are growing like mad and I have to cut them. Go figure.

5. Tom didn't start getting tattoos until after he was 60. Definitely old enough to make an informed decision. When he got finally started, he just went for it, full blown guns. Now he has a sailboat on his left wrist surrounded by flames (it's a 1950's guy thing); a hammerhead shark protecting a scroll inscribed with the names of our grandkids on his right wrist; a Portuguese Man O' War and Nemo on his right shoulder; and Poseidon (Neptune) on his left shoulder. But, his parents don't like them. Okay, that's not really accurate. His mother doesn't like them. Every time he wears a sleeveless shirt (to obviously show them off because HE loves them), she just looks at him, shakes her head and mutters, "Oh. Tom." His dad reacts a little differently, more like curious. Every time we see his dad, he will come over to Tom and look really close at his arm. Then he will stand up straight, wet his index finger and try to rub off the tattoo. And, every time, they have the same conversation.

TOM: "Dad, it's permanent. It won't come off."

TOM'S DAD: "Yeah, I know."

But I think he checks just to make sure.