Homeland Farm

Homeland Farm

Saturday, February 4, 2017

It's my birthday and I'll blog if I want to...

       


  Hello again. This blog is brought to you by an ever older Carmen C. Horton. Anyone else find that the older you get, the older you get? What do I mean? Well, let me explain.
          Generally speaking, I am not one to dwell on wrinkles, gray hair and saggy skin. Oh, and my favorite...chinny whiskers. Generally speaking, that is. I think it is due to the fact that my eye sight is so crappy these days I just can't see all of it as well as I used to.Of course, it helps that my light shades in the bathroom and bedroom are so well covered with a fine layer of dust, I can barely find my clothes to get dressed. Plus, on top of everything, I now have to take my glasses OFF to see anything anyways. What the??
           But then, one day you are glancing into your rear view mirror, or washing a window and catch a glimpse of your image in the clean glass and BAM! Where in GOD'S NAME did that long chinny whisker come from? Or, as is usually my case, where did that BILLY GOAT'S BEARD come from?? BAAAA!!!! Followed closely by.. how long have I been sporting it? And most importantly, how come no one noticed and clued me in?
           My daughter, bless her heart, is always quick to point out and pluck off the offending freakish, follicle dweller. Naturally, it is usually accompanied by a blatttttt...or a meowwww. I don't know...are cat whiskers less offensive then a goat beard? Six of one, half a dozen of another, really. I seem to have much darker face hair then head hair. How odd. Oh don't get me wrong, I have my fair share of long white hair..but as gray as my head hair is now, my face hair has made a concerted effort to maintain a naturally dark brunette. Thanks for that.
Who has more dark whiskers?? Hard sayin'...
           I was doing some "pruning" the other day while the sunlight was shining in the bathroom just right, giving me enough blinding glare to actually be able to see something. All of a sudden, I thought I was looking at a road map. Seriously. My forehead was WRINKLED..like not one or two frown line wrinkles. It was much more like a New York City subway drawing. Whoa. I pulled this way...yanked that...Try as I might, there was no smoothing it out. When did that happen? Now I am "smiley" person, so the eye wrinkles and crinkles are just "laugh lines", and to me, are not offensive. The twelve or so canyons across my forehead look deep enough to hide wild horses in, and trust me, no one would ever find them. I'm not even going to mention the long troughs running down both sides of my nose, nor do I even want to think about the two grooves running down to my chin, one on either side of my mouth. I know what is to be expected from those, having seen my grandmother and several great aunts blotting their faces as the ice cream they are eating gets caught up in the grooves and makes a milky river that needs constant wiping. Yep, it's coming.
Take the subway at 49th street.. get off at 51st street
           You know what else I am amazed at? How is it possible that my muscles have turned into..well..not muscles. I was a rugged farm chick, tossing hay bales and lugging grain with the best of them. Now, I hoist the 20 pound cat litter bag, and think I should qualify for the Olympics.Those strong arm muscles?Apparently gravity got to them because they now dangle on the UNDERSIDE of my arms.  My knees are shot, and passing gas has unfortunately become something I excel at. Why? I just don't know. Is it fair? Not to my poor, long suffering family. They are now used to "can you carry this for me?" and "someone grab me the mustard while you are out in fridge". Oh..and the aforementioned gas...well, let's just say having a granddaughter to blame is SO handy, Poor Milly. Too bad she is such a ripe kid. I hope she doesn't grow up too fast. At some point, she will be able to say "GRANNY DID IT, NOT ME!!"
"Your blaming me for WHAT??"
            So..what is a fifty four year old to do, on the eve of her birthday? Sulk. Nawww...that won't get you anywhere. Party like it's 1999? God no...no hangovers for this old gal. It would take me until my next birthday to recover. I think I will just celebrate those wrinkles, chinny whiskers, gray hair and saggy arms with a glass of bubbly, delicious food and the family. Besides, I am 'this side of the sod', and ready to rock 2017...Let's do this! Oh, and no thanks..no beans for me. 

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