For this post I am borrowing one from a favorite Blog I read. It sums up some of my thoughts on aging bodily when my mind is still 30something. Actually, I gravitate to about 34, one of the best years of my life because it was the first year I spent with my cherished daughter, Lydia. For now, I seem to be the size and shape I vowed never to be when I was resigned to being a Rosalind Russell figure rather than an Audrey Hepburn figure. However, the styles I love to wear would look, at this time, more like the work of a tent maker than a tailor.
Alas, with menopause my willpower and habits of many years seem to be misplaced. I continue the search, but I fear the dog hid them along with my favorite sock. So the following post is appreciated as a nudge in the shins and a reminder to look for the sock so that I might also find my will and good habits.
Peace Old Friend!
Please click on Life On a Hill for the rest of the story.
Life on a Hill: Being an (guitar-playing) old lady!