over 50

All posts tagged over 50

Eyebrows And Hairy Legs

Published April 22, 2017 by mindfulofchatter

As some of you may remember (although why you would, I don’t know), I decided to stop plucking my eyebrows in some keeping up the Joneses (or perhaps Kardashians) shape and let them be plain old eyebrows. I discovered along the way that eyebrows actually take a long time to fully regrow – up to 65 days, sometimes longer, and in a few cases never.

My eyebrows are looking less odd and more normal. The patchy spots have mostly regrown, and the odd little stripes I had on each eyebrow are almost gone completely. The hairs are now all growing in the proper direction and not trying stick up or swing backwards. They are a mix of dark and blonde hairs with a few white hairs tossed in fun. I have been better about keeping the outer edges looking nice, so all is going well in the eyebrow department. They look pretty darn good.

Now the legs. I hadn’t shaved them in ages. It was cold outside, I wear long pants at work (per uniform requirements) and I have no one to complain about them being fuzzy. Plus my shower is the size of small telephone booth making shaving a challenge even for a professional contortionist. So I just let them go.

I had a look at them the other day. Summer is coming and I don’t need to be fuzzy legged in summer dresses. The hair had gotten to be about 1/2″ long. But what is funny is how it now growing in. The backs of my legs have no hair at all. They are smooth and soft. The hair is mostly growing on the front over my shin bones. The sides are patchy with hairless areas here and there. My knees are as hairless as the backs of my legs.

Too bad the fronts can’t follow the backs and give up growing hair. That would be nice. It would be even better if my armpits would take up the no hair mantra. But so far, they aren’t cooperating.

If the hair had grown in blonde, I may have left it alone and gone on my merry way. But it was dark (though not scratchy at all and kinda soft) and showed up very well against my very light skin. So I squeezed myself into the shower and managed to shave the fronts smooth once again. I will say having to shave only the front half of my legs is wonderful. This is far easier than having manage knees and leg backs.

I hope that the fronts come to see how useless growing all that hair is.



In Search Of

Published February 20, 2017 by mindfulofchatter

Businesswoman standing on a ladder looking through binoculars

A friend of mine, who is also single, female and over fifty, recently posted;

ISO (in search of): Ethics, morals and integrity. Non smoker, non drinker and no drugs. Truck, tractor and tiller in very good working condition. Farm life background-knows how to set posts and fix horse fence. Must love good food, sassy conversation and me.

This made me think about what I am in search of. Only mine went sorta like this;

Must play with Legos, have a sense of humor, likes gargoyles, dragons….

It seems I’m looking for a 12-year-old.

The truth is I want most of the same things my friend wants. I just want a little more fun and less tractor/tiller/fencing. I used have the sort of life, and I loved it then, but it isn’t what I want now.

When you are older and dating, the rules change. They can’t help but change. We are no longer in our twenties with an entire life stretching before us. Most people over 50 are looking for someone settled in, secure, mature and who has made it past coloured building blocks.

I, however, still find joy in a lot things I ought to have out grown by now. I have gargoyles, a couple of dragons (Uh, not real ones. All that breathing fire leaves too ash to clean up) and few other things that may be viewed as immature. You know what is a complete blast? Digging in huge bin of Lego people parts building your own Lego dude (or dudette). You know who won’t do that without kids or grandkids present? The majority of men over fifty. Maybe even over forty.

I like the Marvel movies, Doctor Who, a little candy goth, a little steampunk, the list goes on. But the point is – I am not dead. I still want to play a little. So what if I’m the oldest person in the world in Hot Topic? I like Hot Topic. I enjoy looking the clothing and sometimes I buy a Doctor Who toy. Sometimes I buy a shirt. Why? Because I like it. It makes me laugh. Sometimes I put bright colours in my hair. They wash out, but they are fun. You remember fun, right?

I also like museums, classical music, theatre, BBC programs, diners, walking and other more grown up activities.

But the other side of that silly stuff coin IS  finding someone who is also responsible, ethical, has integrity, doesn’t do drugs and doesn’t drink himself stupid every chance he gets.

It’s a balance that is tough to find. Perhaps impossible. But I will keep bouncing along hoping that other oddball is out there. And, you know, single and age appropriate. Perhaps one day our eyes will meet over the Lego bin as we reach for the same Lego arm.

Excuse me now, I need to hit the nearest Lego store.

And The Beat Goes On

Published September 22, 2016 by mindfulofchatter


It seems like eons since my last post. In actuality it has been 4 days. Only 4 days. It is amazing how time can warp to feel long or short depending on our mood and the things that impact that time.

In those 4 days I have finished up more orders that I will ship today, gotten an order for three more of the little pumpkins I have been painting (along with the skulls), looked RV’s to live in, and applied for more jobs. Today I will go back to one place I applied at before and re-apply. It can’t hurt. They can only ignore me again. I’d phrase it as saying ‘No’, but they never actually say anything. They simply never ring back.

I have made enough money with my little painting gig to pay my bills but not my rent. I think there is local group that may help with my rent. I will have to ferret them out and see. I am not adept at ‘working the system’ because until lately, I have had no need, and I dislike having to be helped by government agencies. I can work. I want to work. There’s just that snag of finding the actual work itself.

I’ve applied for a few housekeeping jobs. I am of the generation that dresses nicely when going to look for work. This becomes a disadvantage at times. The last place I went tried to steer me into care giving, which I am not wired to do. Another place thought I ought to work the front desk, but they had no openings there. I want to work in housekeeping, but no one seems to think I ought to.

Now understand, I am not dressed to the nines. I am not in a skirt suit and heels, with my hair swept up into a french roll. I do not look like I ought to be a TV attorney or executive. I wear a nice, casual dress and flats. My hair is brushed and I wear light make-up. Apparently the ability to dress remotely nice means you can’t run a vacuum cleaner, make beds and dust.

Now, I know what housekeeping is. I have done hotel housekeeping. It is hard work. You are exhausted the first week or so. Your body hurts from head to toe until it becomes accustomed to the work. It isn’t as easy as people think it is. So, yeah, please tip your housekeeper when you stay at a hotel. She is working harder than you may think.

I am looking for a cheap RV. It doesn’t have to pretty. I can clean it up. I just need a place to live and not be homeless. I have a marvelous friend who would like very much for me to be where she is so we can help each other. That is our goal. But I need an RV of some sort to make that happen. Or a million dollars to buy a place for us to live, but the RV seems a much more achievable task at the moment.

I am grateful for the help I have been given up to this point. It has kept me afloat. I am grateful for the people who have ordered the little skulls and pumpkins, many of whom have paid more than the balance due. I am grateful that GusMonster is still with me and still mostly happy. I am grateful for every day I have with him.

The beat goes on. I will keep dancing along with it.



Published June 20, 2016 by mindfulofchatter

Highway Signpost "Downsizing - Straight Ahead"


It is an odd thing to begin to prepare to be homeless and live in an RV. There are things to be done and decisions to be made. Having a home for the entirety of ones life means there is a lot of downsizing to do.

Over the years I have downsized quite a bit simply because I got tired of hauling so much stuff with me. Having less feels lighter. Once you downsize, you find you don’t need things any longer. It feels good.

Now I have to decide what I can keep and what I can’t. What is important, and what is just stuff.

Of all of my furniture, there is only one piece I loath to sell. My desk was my mother’s desk. It is called an organ desk because it was made into a desk from the shell of a small organ or piano forte. It looks exactly like some of the piano fortes you see in period films. My mother found it in some little antique shop and had it refinished. It is odd and beautiful. It one of the few things I have from her. But it won’t fit in an RV. All in all, it’s just a desk, but I will miss it.

My things, my stuff, my set-abouts all have to be packed into something small enough to fit in an RV storage space. I have all ready whittled them down to things I cherish most. I cleaned out my fabric stash and that is down to one medium-sized bin. I doubt that will come with me, but the other medium-sized bin is the one that hold my stuff. All of my stuff must fit in that bin, or it goes. I am a good packer, so I think very little will go to the wayside. I am glad I did sort through and donate not long ago.

There things that will need to go to my children because I can’t keep them. Family photos, my father’s medals and other family items that need to be passed along will be passed along sooner than I thought they would. No worries, I am the only one who had children and my sisters have no interest in these things.

Artwork, posters, antique photos, antique fashion plates – all the things the decorate my walls will have to face some sort of sort and sell music. Some I will not part with quite yet and will have to pack carefully. Others will be given to friends I know will love them and appreciate them.

My sewing machines will be one of the toughest things to decide on. I know there won’t be room for both the sewing machine and the serger. There may not be room for either one. I won’t know until I find a vehicle and can see how much room there is. The cutting table, the dress form most of my craft and sewing stash will have to go. I know this. I don’t like it, but I know there won’t be room.

I appreciate those who have shared, and those who have donated. Every small donation works towards the larger goal. A friend of mine shared my gofundme with a group that has 10,000 members. Ten thousand! To think that is each person donated $2, I would be well on my way to my new home. That is mind-boggling indeed!

Please continue to share:


Thank you all so very much. I appreciate it, and so do the dogs. Well, the dogs just want to eat and ride in car. I can only imagine an RV will be heaven for them.

Home and travel all in one.



My Face Is Sliding Off! Where’s The Glue?

Published August 15, 2014 by mindfulofchatter



After my foray into the world of online food advice, I decided to dip my toes into the internet once again. This time I wanted to see what the world had to say about the infamous sagging neck.

Now, we all have things about our reflections we dislike. As we stand and study every wrinkle and imperfection on our faces, we wonder if there is a way to fix it. My sister, for example, once asked how I felt about us all having ‘the great Belgium Honker’ (my father’s grandparents hailed from Belgium. We all have the same freaking nose).  I had never really given my nose much thought. But my sister had always thought her nose was enormous and ugly. So now I had to go look at my nose. And there it was. The same nose I’d always had. A little crooked, a small scar across the middle, two nostrils (thank goodness there weren’t suddenly three) and that little bump on one side. Nope, I still don’t see it as huge.

But my neck, aha! Now that is a different story. I see my neck as the ugly part of my face. It has a sag in the center. Yup. Ye olde turkey neck is on its way. So I wondered if there were new things out there to ‘fix’ it. Or at least make it less turkey-like. Or ish.

The internet did not let me down. (what a fun place the internet is. Kind of like one gigantic infomercial for crappy stuff)

There were several sites labeled along the lines of ’10 Ways To Fix Your Neck Wrinkles’ and ‘Have A Younger Looking Neck In 6 Easy Steps’. Wow! My dream has come true at last! I can’t wait to find out all the closely guarded secrets to fix a saggy neck!

They start out the same: Creams. Just slather a certain type of cream on your neck and the wrinkles will be minimized. Use a tightening cream and it may (not a sure thing, mind you) make your neck appear more lifted. Appear. This is an important thing to note. It will not actually lift your neck, just make it appear lifted. So now we are applying an optical illusion? And as with all creams, lotions and items along that line, any progress your skin appears (there’s that word again!) to make will stop as soon as you stop using the cream.

Next up we have mircoderm abrasion. They seem to be trying to tell me I simply remove the wrinkles by using an abrasive scrub or rotary tool with an abrasive pad (I don’t recommend using a belt sander or orbital sander). The idea behind is that you make micro cuts in your skin that allow the new skin and collagen to come to the surface, thus creating a younger look. Or appearance. I call this method re-surfacing the moon. It can dangerous if not done correctly, or done too often.

Botox injections. Okay………let’s inject poison into our skin and, in essence, freeze the muscles. Or not.

The Life Style Lift. They do this thing on your lunch hour. Right there I am suspicious. In one hour I can have the neck of my dreams? Um…… not buying it. What is the catch? I tried to look into it further, but you have to call. There are only before and after photos on their website. But I did run into a friend of friend whose friend (stay with me here) had it done. Apparently, they pull the loose skin up and basically rubber-band it into small knots, then hide the knots in your hair. Try explaining that to your significant other when they run their hands through your hair. Ew. Just – ew.

These lists often continue with ridiculous advice about foods, topical masks and how to wash your face and neck. I never thought I needed directions on how to wash my face. After all, I’ve managed to wash my face all by myself for 50 some odd years now. Not once have I managed to wash my face incorrectly. I mean really, how difficult is it? Soap, water, clean towel, done. No my dears, I do not use a fancy, dancy facial cleanser. That’s pretty much what soap is.

But all these lists end the same way. Get a neck lift. A surgical neck lift. That’s right boys and girls, let some guy (or gal) with a knife play cut and paste with your face. I actually went to a plastic surgeon for a consultation several years ago. I was curious and wanted to know how it was done. I was told I great skin for a lift. Yay! Then he began to go through how the lift was done. Incisions made here, here, and here. Pulling the skin up, cutting away the loose bits and stitching all the bits and parts back together. And then there’s the recovery. Six to eight weeks of swelling, redness, pain, itching……….wow! Where do I sign up for that! I can’t wait to be totally miserable and hide from the world for up to two months. Plus it was about 10 grand. I don’t know about you, but I don’t have that kind of cash laying about for trivial things like fixing my neck skin simply because I dislike it.

In the end I decided I was just fine the way I am. No, I haven’t developed a sudden love for my turkey neck. I have just found ways to accept it. It is part of who I am and my aging process. I’m not going to freak out because my neck isn’t the same neck I had at 20. Okay, it is the same neck. I didn’t have a neck replacement or anything. But now that neck has 35 more years on it. It seems like a good neck, it has no leaks or holes in it, so I’ll keep it a while longer.

The next time you stand and ponder your reflection, try to look at yourself with a new attitude. See laugh lines rather than wrinkles. Don’t let our world of anti-aging freak you out because we are all going to age. Period. Aging gracefully means accepting the changes time is making on your face and body.

Smile. Hold your chin up (I’ll need two hands for that part) and be proud of yourself.

Just the way you are.

Happy Birthday To Me. Come on! Sing With Me!

Published March 25, 2014 by mindfulofchatter



Alright, who isn’t singing? You there. Yeah, you. Sing a little louder please.

Tomorrow is my birthday. Well, depending on where you live today is my birthday. Either way I am another year older, not so much wiser and still figuring out what to be when I grow up.

I am now 55.

55 used to be the magic number of ‘senior’ discounts and retirement. No any longer. Now 62 is the average age to receive that blistering 10% off at most shops. So now that I’ve made it to 55, I still have to wait until I’m 62. When I hit 62, they will probably have upped the ante to 72.  Not that I care, it’s just one of those things that have changed with the times.

So here I sit here at 55 and look back a bit at my life. I don’t have the things most people have at my age. I don’t drive the latest car. I don’t live in a house with 5 bedrooms that I never use and 4 car garage for one car. I don’t have millions in the bank for my retirement. I will not be traveling the world in my old age. Apparently I have failed at attaining ‘The American Dream’.

My life has been unremarkable. Rather plain by most standards. But it has been fun, unpredictable and sometimes a roller coaster ride. And best of all, there is more to come.

As a kid, my family spent many a summer driving to the midwest from the west coast to visit family. Along the way we got to see things like The Alamo, Four Corners, Carlsbad Caverns, old plantation homes in the south, The French Quarter in New Orleans, Dodge City, Tombstone, Churchill Downs and loads of roadside attractions, landscapes and ‘strange’ folk. All from the door of our motorhome.

I got to have turtles, a cat, a dog, watch tadpoles turn into frogs and later on – a horse. I played in the summer rain, roller skated, climbed trees, rode my bicycle all over town and ran until I dropped. My parents taught me to love books, be curious, fix small things, ask questions, swim, explore and so much more (Yeah, I am old. I grew up with no cell phone or internet). Were my parents perfect? No. They yelled when they probably shouldn’t have and made mistakes like anyone else. But they did the best they could. After all, us kids didn’t come with instructions.

All in all, I had a grand childhood.

My adult life has been a series of ups and downs. I have been married more than once. I have known heartbreak and betrayal. I have staunch friends who always be my friends no matter how badly I screw up. My kids have lived more places than most kids who are not military brats. I sometimes feel bad that I didn’t get to give them some of the things I had as a kid. I screwed up a lot. But we had dogs and horses, and they got to do things other kids didn’t get to do. They have grown into adults I am proud of and neither one of them seem to be too awfully ruined by my mistakes.

So no. I don’t have that huge, modern house with all those empty rooms. Instead, I live in small house with my S.O., his youngest son, and four dogs. We have two old cars and one newish car. We watch our pennies and shop gleefully at thrift shops and discount markets (Yes, gleefully. Thrift shops are a blast!). We are happy and relatively healthy. We have what we need. And best of all, we have the important stuff.

Each other.

The true ‘American’ Dream.


And The World Shifts Again – Moving Forward

Published February 21, 2014 by mindfulofchatter

I know. I know! It’s been a while since I posted anything. The holidays have come and gone. Valentines Day has come and gone. Where the heck was I with my snarky comments and sage advice??


The lease on my small, but tiny, apartment was up in December. The management being johnny-on-the-spot as always didn’t take notice of that fact until January. Lucky me! But now I had to re-qualify and re-up the lease. Or pay more in rent. I had no intention of spending another year living there if I could help it, let alone paying more in rent.

My apartment dwelling comrades were not the best examples of the human race. I have told you of the peanut butter bunny stomped into the carpet in front of the mailboxes. The neighbours who think 2 AM on a week night is grand time to play some dumb-arse video game on full volume. And Body Bag Boy (who moved before the holidays) and his incessant yelling and rule breaking habits. Yup. Just the folks I want to share walls with.

Another year there was not high on my list of things to do. So now what?

I broached  the subject of moving in together to Luke. I did on a Friday and that gave him the weekend to think it over. On my end, it is always ‘What the heck. You never know until you ask!’ I let him think about it without bringing it up over and over. This is a big relationship move. You don’t just do it on a whim. Well, okay. You usually don’t do it on a whim. Some of us ‘whim’ more than others.

Luke said yes. We may as well give it a shot. I was living at his place pretty much all through the holidays, then staying over every weekend. What’s four extra days of staying over? And we both could use the financial hand.

So I am moved in. Pretty much moved in, anyway. We have to close the apartment this weekend, but most everything is here rather than there. We have cleaned out, sorted through, thrown away, organized and painted our socks off. Luke has been a champ. This a lot of change for him all at once. His last child (16-year-old young man) living at home has also been a champ. The two bachelor boys have had their world turned upside down, inside out and sideways. And they still let me come home at night. Wow.

The four-legged companion is in heaven. She thinks Luke is all that and a bag chips with pie on the side. Not all the dogs are getting on together, so we have to play rotate the dogs. It’s a bit of a pain, but it works.

The holidays were wonderful. This is the first holiday season in years I have been happy and felt wanted and invited (we spent Thanksgiving and Christmas at his folk’s house with ‘the family’).  Valentines found me with a rose and a six-pack of ‘Hello Kitty’ mini cupcakes. And the cupcakes each had a ‘Hello Kitty’ ring on top! Jewelry on our very first Valentines together! WooHoo! Luke, Man-Child and I all went out for dinner the day after Valentines. All in all, it was a very fun day (or two).

So here we are, moving forward and having a grand time. Some may say we have moved too fast, but it seems to a natural move. We mesh together well. I have tons of people (some who know I am not married) assume we are married, and often ask how my husband is. Luke and I have given in and let it go. If they want to think we are married, okay.

I guess it’s a sign that we ‘go together’ well.