Category: Uncategorized

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Put It Away

Okay, maybe because I am older I am a bit of a prude. But I am so tired of women celebrities wearing next to nothing, or completely sheer dresses.

It is not classy.

And it is not sexy.

When you are young, you think the more you show the sexier it is.

NOT.

Even a man will tell you this is not sexy.

Do you see men doing this? How does a woman feel when she sees a man flaunting himself this way?

I tell you, I would choose a Cary Grant any day over a naked body builder. Mr. Grant has class.

I have nothing against our bodies, what we have is perfectly natural, normal and not shocking.

We are beings with imaginations, intelligence, creativity. We like to dress up and adorn ourselves in things. It is all good and an expression of our complex characters. But especially so for women.

From an early age, most girls are sexualized. We are taught that it is our looks that are the most important part of our being and we are not taught to develop our personalities and strengths and talents, which are WAY more of a turn on for men, especially the type of man who will love you.

If you walk around with your breasts hanging out it is rather rude. I say, put them away, please. Men do not find this arousing, trust me. Doing this puts you into a certain category in their minds. A category I am sure you are not.

I understand this is hard to comprehend. I was young once too and made these mistakes. If you want a high quality man, you need to be a high quality lady.

Yeah, I’m just an old hag now. Sorry.

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Shocks to the System

Getting old is just one shock to the system after another.

I write this because I am mad about the judgement placed on seniors about their abilities.

The seniors you read about that run marathons and stuff like that, are the extreme exception to the rule. I hate that younger people think all seniors are physically and mentally capable of such feats, and are therefore lazy.

This is a huge big lie, and you need to get that out of your head. We cannot do what we once were able to. It is not a matter of not wanting to. It is a truth we are not able. And NO, seventy is not the new forty. Stop that shit.

I was athletic and healthy all my life. I ate well, took care of myself, was never way overweight. I ran 10K’s. I cycled thousands of kilometers. I danced. I went to the gym and lifted weights four or more days a week. I went canoeing, paddleboarding, hiking. I was fit. No major diseases.

And then I got old and I can do NONE of that now.

If you live long enough, you are going to start to fall apart. I don’t care who you are. It will happen to you. Usually in bits and pieces, one shock after another, but sometimes in one big shock.

And it is not just your body. Your brain is tired. You are not as quick. You cannot endure eight or more hours of brain work at a go. You need a lot of rest.

It does not matter what you do, it will happen to you.

That is why we need guaranteed income when we are old. We can no longer earn it, and we have a lot of expenses that young people don’t have. It is costly to stay alive and have a good quality of life.

We have contributed our lives and sometimes our very souls to the world of work and community during our time here, not to mention, raising you young people and providing you with shelter, food and opportunity for a good life.

Cut us some slack.

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I Am Not No One

I wanted to sleep in.

But I have a cat.

After numerous head butts, some bites, meows and loud purring Sam my cat sat at my face and glared at me.

“Sam, what is the point in getting up? No one cares if I get up or not.”

Those big golden eyes burned into mine. “I am not no one. I care.”

I got up.

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Bitching

I know a person who does non stop bitching. About everything.

She goes on an on and on about how terrible things are. It is utterly amazing and fascinating how everything she sees, hears, reads and experiences is all bad. It is impossible to divert her.

You could be walking along and point out some lovely flowers to her and she might momentarily agree, but then quickly point out that the weather is going to change and they will all freeze, or the planter they are in is ugly, or they are not getting enough sun and will die, or the colour scheme is off, or gardening is hard work for nothing, or people are going to steal them, or…..

To say such a person in emotionally draining is an understatement. She is an emotional vampire!

You can’t go anywhere with this person as she focuses on the bad or potentially bad of every single thing.

She wonders why I don’t want to go out for meals with her! Let me tell you, you could go to a five star restaurant and be treated like a princess and she would bitch non stop about the entire affair.

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The Queen

I liked the British Monarchy because of all the garish ceremony and ritual, the excessive crown jewellery and tiaras and clothing. I liked the way they walked and talked, with class and that infamous British reserve.

I suppose it is because I was raised in Canada, where in my generation, British rule was still at the forefront of our lives, our sense of humour, our mannerisms, our perceptions and our reverence for the Queen. She united us as a country and with Britain. Without her our country would seem fragmented to me, without roots, without a certain classiness, a sophistication.

And that is what happened after the Queen died. The whole monarchy lost it’s attraction. The Queen was the monarchy. She was more than just a figure head. She was an idol from a romantic period. When she departed this world, she took that fantasy world with her and the whole thing deflated. It lost its significance.

If there was still a shred of glamour left after the Queen’s death, Harry finished it off. Harry is the rotten apple that spoiled the whole bunch. He dealt the final blow.

I would rather have kept the fantasy.

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Spring

After our usual long and sometimes brutal winter, it is good to see this:

And these:

Also good to hear people talking about gardening and the flowers they will grow and the tulips and daffodils are already up.

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Cancelled

In public school, way back before I was even a teenager, we had to do projects that were put on display for adults and public.

I was very keen on animal welfare, long before animal welfare was a thing.

I did a scathing project on the cruelty of the Calgary Stampede. How they put things under the saddles to make horses buck. How they nearly break calfs necks roping them. How horses often died after wagon races (sometimes during). And a whole lot of other nasty things that went on at this event.

Well, despite being a little girl, you would not believe the backlash I got. I got yelled at during the show. People threatened to destroy my display right on the spot. They even went after my family too, (though fortunately, my father was a Sergeant Major and that put an end to a lot of harassment).

For months afterwards I was name called and pooh-bahed and basically – cancelled.

Then decades later I saw an article on the cruelty of the Stampede and how animal rights activists were protesting against the event.

I had to wait a long time to be uncancelled.

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Pareidolia

If you are looking to have some fun while waiting for the bus, or doing a mundane task, look for patterns in the everyday. You will see faces or animals, or a host of other things if you are imaginative.

Pareidolia is seeing faces in objects, but you can see most anything. It is akin to seeing pictures in clouds, only a lot more fun.

So I had this kinda disgruntled pole watching me while I waited for the bus.

If you really use your imagination for this snow bank, you can see a cat lying on their side sleeping, splayed hind legs and bum facing you. If you have a cat you have seen this position often.

As you can tell, I have long waits for buses.

Don’t get me started.

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There’s a Spot for Me

Whenever I feel overwhelmed with life (practically a daily occurrence) I am extremely fortunate to have places within walking distance that I can go to, at least, in the summertime.

Ah, to be at that picnic table, under that big tree, unapologetically doing absolutely NOTHING.

It is dead quiet there. Sigh.

No office politics. No doctor visits. No missing in non action buses. No telephones ringing. Just me, the tree, and the occasional bug, chipmunk or curious sparrows.

In the winter time, I have these pictures of solitude, and a slight anxiety.

We all need a sanctuary. I hope you find yours.