What's Happening?

Here are some things that are happening to me as I get older. I find that I don't really want to go anywhere, at all, at all. I enjoy the few things I do, but best of all is my green (sorta) chair and all the loverly books I get at the library. I like to look out the window at all the green out here, go and see what is blooming in my teeny garden, I do a little necessary maintenance (deadheading roses, fertilizing, etc.) when I have to but no sooner.

I once loved to go to the grocery store. I could rhapsodize over the fresh vegetables and fruit, smell them, feel them, etc., to my heart's content. Now, I just want to get in, get what I absolutely have to have, and get myself out and back home. I once spent hours in fanciful thought about what I could cook and how to do it, and how to present it. Now, I cook because I must, and the quicker and easier it is, the better I like it. And George usually cleans up the kitchen, so that's done.

There was a time when I would have been jumping up and down to get to go to Canton to shop. Now, I do absolutely not want to shop. Taking me to Canton would once have been like taking an alcoholic to a bar, if I could walk all over Canton. Today, I would run away screaming. I can't and I am not going. I shop from the many catalogs for what I have to have. When I use a catalog, I can turn down the page, wait a day or two and go back. Chances are, I will turn about half of them back up. A few more days, and do it again. If I actually decide to order something, chances are good that they are all gone. Happy day! Then I can pitch the catalog. Too much consumerism makes me a lot nutty. We are like the poem-

the world is too much with us, late and soon,
getting and spending, we lay waste our powers.

Who? Wordsworth maybe? I never can remember, but bits of things are stuck in my memory . We do lay waste our powers. We buy things we really don't want or need because they are there, thrusting themselves in our faces as we go in shops. And then these things sit in our homes and haunt us. Solution = stay out of shops. Now, wasn't that easy?

Then, besides reading, I can knit and play with all my yarn. Right now it is strung all over as I try to decide what (orange/yellow/green/) to put with the orange I am knitting. It's a funny thing. I don't even like orange, and I find myself knitting with it a lot. I am puzzling over this. Then I can spin some and decide what stitch to use when I knit it, or if I will make it my weft on the loom. I can spend a lot of time playing with all this. Besides, all this yarn makes me really happy to look at and to feel. If I actually made all of the items I dream about, I could have flooded a third world country. Not a bad idea, actually. You do understand, don't you, that yarn is exempt from the shopping ban? Well, it is. I actually don't buy yarn, it attaches itself to me and insists on coming home with me. I control this by not going where yarn lives very often. It works pretty well.

I have such a peaceful life. My bed is just too comfortable. DH is getting this way, too. He will announce that tomorrow is golf, for sure!!! Golf for him is like yarn is for me. But the next morning when I get up, he is still sacked out. When I lift an eyebrow? he says that the bed was just too comfortable.

Get old and you too can turn into us. We aren't vegetables, but we like p&Q. Sometimes I shout at politicians on TV, I constantly correct and coach the contestants on Wheel, I stare intently at the insides of people on hospital shows (always wanted to be a doctor) to try to figure out what is going on. When I have to have shooting and war on the TV I go somewhere else. Easy peasy.

Come and see us and try the quiet life. You may like it.

Be peaceful and all will be well.