A group of older women are talking. One, age 64, suggests she is beginning to feel old. Her friend, age 68, says, “No, not me – I’m not old, I’m even working part-time.” Their friend, age 75, says, “No, me neither. I feel full of energy.” What is going on? If they aren’t old, who is?
It is often suggested that babies should be born with a manual, because it is so hard for new parents to work out how best to look after them. We, mothers, know that we managed somehow or other. But now it begins again, as we are faced with being a grandmother.
I would guess that most people who know me see me as a cheerful older woman, with a good life and little to complain about. All this is true. Yet, at the same time, I can feel myself turning into a Grumpy Old Woman.
Do you like to swim? Do you really like it, or do you just do it because you know it is good for you? I am in the latter category. I find it a kind of work.
Mother’s Day is with us again very soon. How did that happen? Didn’t we just do Mother’s Day? Or was it Christmas or her birthday?
Oh no, not more health advice!
We are bombarded these days with advice about what to eat and when, what exercise to take and how often, not to mention all those things we are not supposed to do, like enjoying a good glass of wine.
Are you a worrier? There are a lot of us about. Perhaps especially as we get older. Personally, I’ve been a worrier all my life. There is so much to worry about!
I like to chat. I chat first thing in the morning about any problems I faced in the night. Then I chat at lunch about events of the morning, and I chat in the evening about the rest of the day.
Do you feel you have a book in you? Have you been secretly harbouring the dream of writing it down one day?
I think I’m a bit strange. I dislike almost all presents, whatever the time of year. I don’t much like giving them, and I certainly don’t like getting them. It has been ever thus.