(0655) Bleah out there, hope London staves off the rain so that Julia can get her washing out.
ddddd
Long, long sleep … I feel some sort of rant coming on
Never mind my ramblings, just skip this post and wait for the “real” blogposts. đ A good Sunday to y’all … just had the most amazing sleep … had to be getting on for 7 hours. Mixed bag, sleep … finding body aches you never knew you had, heart, joints etc.
Thinking of my folks way back when … their pics are in an old travel case here, plus old gfs and so on. I’m remembering their ageing when it happened, by degrees, that slow deterioration until even writing notes to yourself no longer sufficed. Where was I? Gallivanting around the world again or returning here.
They’d been highly independent and useful, let’s say … we all could repair, build and so on, keep the lawn mown but slowly … not. The initial killer is becoming sedentary, which I’m thinking DAD is not but he has a huge property to attend to at near 90. We do like to have, must have, our own space, our own room to think, to make decisions, without anyone, even family, telling us what to do.
Family and friends call that irascible, cantankerous, brusque perhaps but truth is it takes us longer to think now, even with good food, exercise and a project.
Project is important … nothing worse, methinks, than just going simple in a rocking chair, relying on being attended to. In other words, a certain amount of penury and eking out a living is a good thing … it keeps the machine in its best condition. For example, I have three flights of stairs, someone has to vacuum them, neighbours and I can’t afford to hire someone, we all have vacuums, I have the 25m extension reel.
Staying on good terms with neighbours is the thing, also if they’re all much younger but admire that old guy who does not look his years … compliments are always nice, just not laid on with a trowel please.
For women, I don’t presume to advise but for men … chaps, lads … there are a few rules … yes there are.
Hygiene first … many won’t tell us, some nasty folk will. We must keep up the bathing, trimming, washing clothes, preferably by hand (exercise) … do not live too easily, chaps, still do that brisk constitutional walk. Look after your legs, they’re your lifeline, your perambulation, your escape mechanism, with your walking stick more a poking weapon than sommit you lean on. If sommit needs doing … go do it yourself.
Socially? Even curmudgeons need people within their inner, middle and outer circle of acquaintances. Drop hangers on but keep fellow independents, with one exception … your women and/or children. The former are a fine art I never quite got right … has any man ever managed domestic tranquility? Well that’s for you to tell me.