The View from a Drawbridge

The random musings of an autistic bridgetender with entirely too much time on her hands.

A Hitch in My Giddy-Up

March 27, 2017

Yep. I’m getting old. I have slight arthritis in my hips, and some mornings it feels as though they’re not going to support my weight for a few seconds there. Rather than a morning smoker’s hack (the sound of my mother’s made me a nonsmoker for life), I have a morning hobble and groan. I’ve…

Yep. I’m getting old. I have slight arthritis in my hips, and some mornings it feels as though they’re not going to support my weight for a few seconds there. Rather than a morning smoker’s hack (the sound of my mother’s made me a nonsmoker for life), I have a morning hobble and groan.

I’ve also been feeling a twinge in my knee of late. As with small sounds in my car, I keep ignoring it, hoping it will go away. Fingers crossed…

And bell peppers don’t agree with me anymore. That’s a shame, because I like them. But if I eat them, I know I’ll soon regret it.

And the more grey my hair becomes, the more kinky and unmanageable it gets. It seems I did not inherit my mother’s silky, lustrous silver tresses. I’ll probably be one of those unruly, witchy women, in appearance as well as in word and deed.

But even though I miss my 19 year old body, I don’t miss the 19 year old me. If all these aches and pains are the price I have to pay for a life well lived, full of lessons and experiences, then I’ll take it. I’ll take it and come back for seconds.

A book about gratitude is a gift that keeps on giving! http://amzn.to/2mlPVh5

8 responses to “A Hitch in My Giddy-Up”

lyn sutton

Mar 27, 2017 at 1:44 pm

My giddy-up got up and left never to be seen again.

Your pictures don’t show the gray. Wait till someone asks why you don’t dye it or tells you you’re brave for not dyeing it. All I know is I earned every one of mine and omg I’ve earned a lot.

Embracing my witchy look and the broom doubles as a cane. 🙂

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1. The View from a Drawbridge
  
  Mar 27, 2017 at 7:35 pm
  
  Fortunately my gray is fairly equally distributed so far, so if you don’t know how dark my hair used to look, you might not notice. But yes, every time I go to the hairdresser they try to talk me into dying it. Grrrrr.
  
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  1. lyn sutton
    
    Mar 27, 2017 at 9:11 pm
    
    Why’s it okay for men to go gray yet when nature ages a woman it’s time to break out the dye and get judgemental? A truly good hairdresser shouldn’t need to resort to dye to make your hair fabulous.
    
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  2. The View from a Drawbridge
    
    Mar 27, 2017 at 9:19 pm
    
    Well, I’ll never dye my hair, so their judgment be damned. 🙂
    
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Sam Ramirez

Mar 27, 2017 at 6:13 pm

I can relate Barb. The other night I spent a great deal of time plucking gray hairs out of my head. But, I wasn’t depressed about growing old. In fact, I was laughing about it. I’m actually grateful about being 55 and still having most of my hair and teeth. When I go home for the holidays, my family asked me if I’m dying my hair. Ironically, I haven’t even bought a box of “Just For Men” hair dye yet, but I am checking out the different colors at CVS. I haven’t decided if I’m a dark, medium, or light brown. Just too many choices to worry about right now. Okay, so I’m not George Clooney who turned into a silver fox at a young age, but I guess I’m happy with who I am. Father Time knocks everyone’s door eventually.

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1. The View from a Drawbridge
  
  Mar 27, 2017 at 7:36 pm
  
  Indeed he does, dear friend! May as well invite him in and offer him some tea.
  
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2. The View from a Drawbridge
  
  Mar 27, 2017 at 7:37 pm
  
  Oh, and P.S. Don’t dye your hair. I think men look silly when they do, especially when they look so distinguished when they don’t!
  
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pouringmyartout

Mar 29, 2017 at 7:14 pm

awwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

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The View from a Drawbridge

The random musings of an autistic bridgetender with entirely too much time on her hands.

A Hitch in My Giddy-Up

Yep. I’m getting old. I have slight arthritis in my hips, and some mornings it feels as though they’re not going to support my weight for a few seconds there. Rather than a morning smoker’s hack (the sound of my mother’s made me a nonsmoker for life), I have a morning hobble and groan.

I’ve also been feeling a twinge in my knee of late. As with small sounds in my car, I keep ignoring it, hoping it will go away. Fingers crossed…

And bell peppers don’t agree with me anymore. That’s a shame, because I like them. But if I eat them, I know I’ll soon regret it.

And the more grey my hair becomes, the more kinky and unmanageable it gets. It seems I did not inherit my mother’s silky, lustrous silver tresses. I’ll probably be one of those unruly, witchy women, in appearance as well as in word and deed.

But even though I miss my 19 year old body, I don’t miss the 19 year old me. If all these aches and pains are the price I have to pay for a life well lived, full of lessons and experiences, then I’ll take it. I’ll take it and come back for seconds.

A book about gratitude is a gift that keeps on giving! http://amzn.to/2mlPVh5

Like this:

8 responses to “A Hitch in My Giddy-Up”

Leave a Reply to pouringmyartoutCancel reply

The random musings of an autistic bridgetender with entirely too much time on her hands.

A Hitch in My Giddy-Up

Yep. I’m getting old. I have slight arthritis in my hips, and some mornings it feels as though they’re not going to support my weight for a few seconds there. Rather than a morning smoker’s hack (the sound of my mother’s made me a nonsmoker for life), I have a morning hobble and groan.

I’ve also been feeling a twinge in my knee of late. As with small sounds in my car, I keep ignoring it, hoping it will go away. Fingers crossed…

And bell peppers don’t agree with me anymore. That’s a shame, because I like them. But if I eat them, I know I’ll soon regret it.

And the more grey my hair becomes, the more kinky and unmanageable it gets. It seems I did not inherit my mother’s silky, lustrous silver tresses. I’ll probably be one of those unruly, witchy women, in appearance as well as in word and deed.

But even though I miss my 19 year old body, I don’t miss the 19 year old me. If all these aches and pains are the price I have to pay for a life well lived, full of lessons and experiences, then I’ll take it. I’ll take it and come back for seconds.

A book about gratitude is a gift that keeps on giving! http://amzn.to/2mlPVh5

Like this:

8 responses to “A Hitch in My Giddy-Up”

Leave a Reply to pouringmyartoutCancel reply

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