Sunday, March 22, 2015

Where the hell did 'that ' come from?

So you need a reminder that you are---getting older; that the Gold Card is just around the corner? You probably don’t want to think too much about that, because it has other connotations re your longevity. You could always sink into depression at the thought of the ‘gradual degradation’ of the body, the one that once graced ‘catwalks,’ or sandy beaches, without a negative thought in your young head. Oh come on---if you get that far in life, maybe it’s time to lighten up. Maybe just ‘living the moment’ is the philosophy one should hold to. For me that slight realization hit me yesterday. I was walking with my ‘extended family’ down at the beautiful ‘bay with the ray,’ stopping to talk and to introduce people to my extended family.’ The ray? ---what ray. It was just a big lie, because we didn’t see it. Never mind, they have all seen the postings on FB and elsewhere so they know I am not making it all up! While encountering a ‘bay friend,’ I was interrupted by Perdy licking the back of my leg. I told her to stop but she kept coming back. I looked down and noticed a long cut—it was red and bleeding—just a little but ‘Miss you know who,’ was exercising her medical intervention. She always finds such injuries—even the ones that I had no idea I had inflicted upon myself. For the life of me, I have no idea where and when it occurred! OK---some of you will take the same attitude that you took to the article on Stuff that had people claiming that they let their dogs kiss them in the belief that it ‘improves their health.’ I will not go that far but I do let Perdy lick little cuts and abrasions and I swear that the next day, such wounds are well on the way to being heeled. You can make up your own mid on both issues! That night after everyone had gone I was on my computer (it’s OK, I am not so big now and I don’t break it when I sit on it!) when I noticed the recent scars and blotches on my hands. They were not all ‘age spots,’ although there are some; they were heeled stuff from God knows when. A cut mark here, another there—WTF is going on? It seems that I am collecting the buggers. Hell, at this rate I will look like a survivor from some ‘reality game in the wilds.’ All I can do is laugh at myself and try to make sure that I don’t lose an actual hand in my obvious wild flapping around as I walk and go about my day. I guess one good thing about all this is that now that I am much healthier, the damn things clear up more quickly. Not so long ago, these ‘badges of courage,’ stayed with me! Also---I am now out and about more, in order to collect them, so it’s not all bad.