Getting older, and older, and older….

Well, I don’t mean to get dramatic, but at 65, it has dawned on me that I am at the front of the metaphorical bus. My parents have already gotten off the bus. I had lunch with a dear friend yesterday and we were talking about this “getting older thing”. She said that her parents never let on that after a certain age, everything hurts. Nor did they tell her that she would have an inner tube permanently around her waist! My parents were active, until they weren’t. I am still “sorta” active, and to that end, got a dog to keep me walking everyday. Anyone who knows me, knows I have never been really active. I am a reader, writer, puppeteer, who is a bit “round” (hey! it’s a shape), and who loathes exercise. Oh, I’ve done it, joined gyms, even did a stint where I exercised at home, and I even lost weight and looked half way decent (according to society’s standards). But since I have the attention span of a gnat, I couldn’t (wouldn’t) keep it up. Having Bailey, the soft coated wheaten terrier, has forced me to exercise by walking her many times a day. She will undoubtedly extend my life, so that I can hurt when I wake up in the morning, and nurture my inner tube.



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