IN ANTICIPATION OF A haircut appointment tomorrow, I’ve been trying to decide what to do about my graying blonde hair. “Gronde” as it’s known in hair salon lingo.
Out for a walk yesterday I was lost in my thoughts, contemplating this very important issue, when I walked by a property under construction. There were men working on the outside of the building.
As I walked by I heard one of them shout at me: “Love you, Annie.”
This made no sense to me but I smiled, waved my hand at him, and continued on with my walk.
ABOUT HALF A BLOCK later it occurred to me in a hey-wait-a-minute moment that I may have misheard what the guy shouted at me.
That what the man shouted at me was: “Love you, Granny.”
Meaning that from afar I appeared to be, of all things, a grandmother.
Peeved and dismayed as I was by this disturbing realization that shook my ego to its core, it dawned on me that I had my answer about what to do about my gronde hair.
Hence, tomorrow’s hair appointment will include highlights, lowlights– and any other lights available– to reduce the grayness in my fading blonde hair.
Bright Green: river birch tree leaves and catkins in the spring.
Once a week Cee asks the questions on her blog, and I answer them here on my blog.
•When writing by hand do you prefer to use a pencil or pen?
A pen. No doubt this is because I was taught to write with a Zaner-Bloser pen. This pen had what you’d expect a pen to have: that is, a teacher-approved inky writing tip, guaranteed to help make your cursive writing legible.
But on the other end of the pen was a pointy pokey plastic tip that was good for jabbing annoying boys. As a 4th grade girl might want to do. Should she be fed up with their silliness.
In retrospect this was the first multitasking tool to which I had access– and it taught me that if you make do with what you have at hand, you can solve your own interpersonal problems. Isn’t that right, Danny & Tony?
• Would you rather be an amazing dancer or an amazing singer?
While I like the idea of being amazing I don’t want to be on stage, therefore being an amazing dancer or an amazing singer ain’t gonna happen, kids.
Now should you want to refer to me as an amazing blogger, then we’re getting somewhere. 😉
Dark Blue: full moon in the early evening perfectly clear spring sky.
• If you were on a debate team, what subject would you relish debating?
Ok, again, I’m not one for being on stage so a debate team wouldn’t want me. Regardless of the subject I’d freeze up while on stage trying to declare or contradict or refute– or whatever it is that one does when one is on a debate team.
All those people looking at me… *shudder*
• What are you a “natural” at doing?
I’m pretty good at snarking. Rolling my eyes. Seeing the absurdity in the moment– and calling it out.
Also I can throw ingredients together, sans recipe, and usually make something edible. And I merchandise/decorate spaces by second nature, fussing around with things until they are visually pleasing and inviting.
• Optional Bonus Question: What are you grateful for from last week, and what are you looking forward to in the week coming up?
Last week’s gratitude award goes to the fun little video below that summarizes my pre-Easter week shopping experiences. Just like the red bear in the queue, no matter where I went I made some less than prudent decisions about which line to stand in. Gotta laugh, ‘ya know?
This week’s looking forward to something goes to a local garden nursery, only open a few months a year, that’s known for its unique plants. I’ve a list of some small garden tomatoes | peppers | cucumbers that I’m hoping to find at the nursery, so that I can have a manageable veggie garden in pots on our deck this summer.
I HAPPENED TO SEE AN ACQUAINTANCE WHO, after a polite “hello,” launched into a long story about something in her life.
Acquaintance, who is living in the River of Denial, started the conversation, which was really more of a soliloquy, with the words “I’m not a _________, but…” and then went on to tell me about her thoughts and actions that from an objective point of view would say that she is a _________.
“Ain’t it the truth? Ain’t it the truth?”
WHILE I ENJOYED THE THEATRICAL UNHINGED WAY in which she rationalized her behavior, I began to ponder, if given the opportunity, what I was going to say to this woman who, without getting into any of the specifics, I’ll describe as a wackadoodle who needs to see a therapist.
However, being the grown-up that I am I chose to say nothing and remain quiet, listening to her and nodding my head in a supportive way, like an extra on stage behind the lead actor.
As one does, even.
EVENTUALLY ACQUAINTANCE FINISHED TELLING ME HER STORY, and me being me, I said the first thing that floated into my mind. I let her know that I understood what she’d been yammering on about by saying Snagglepuss‘s immortal catchphrase: “Heavens to Murgatroyd!”
And that, kids, seemed to be all that she needed to hear me say to her, thus giving me my opportunity to gracefully walk away from this absurd conversation.
I know it’s odd, but it’s true; those are the three most popular posts on this blog. Not exactly what I’d consider to be my focus or my best-written stuff, but Google’s algorithm does what Google’s algorithm does.
All Hail Google!
My first thought upon seeing this query was to feel a little insulted.
Aging? Moi?! Pish posh, I say!
But then I remembered that one of my blog tags is Aging Gracefully so I had to lighten up on being insulted, and I shifted my thinking to “isn’t this wonderful?”
I was being asked to impart the wisdom of my many years so that others could learn from my depth of experience, keen observations about human nature, and buoyant spirit.
So I sat down at my computer ready to compose a post in which I’d answer that query in such a way as to goose Google’s algorithm. I’d write something so profound and pithy that anyone who asked a similar query, for years to come, would be directed here.
The dream, so close.
But here’s the thing, and it’s significant, I have no real answer to this query.
I mean, I dunno. Maybe the answer is to never stop exercising? Or maybe it’s to commit to being a lifelong learner? Or to attempt to let go of any person, idea, or thing that no longer serves you?
None of these? Some of these? All of these?
Or maybe, just maybe, the real essence of the phenomenon of aging gracefully can be summarized in one crotchety remark: “DON’T BOTHER YOUR ELDERS WITH SILLY QUESTIONS!”
THE SPECTACLED BEAN 