My mother’s new friend, age 85, was told by a fellow resident at the House “we don’t dress like that here.” Mom’s friend is a sharp dresser. She wears bright colors and form-fitting outfits. Her winter coat is a leopard print. In other words, when you reach a certain age you are not supposed to call attention to yourself. No laughing, no carousing, and please no conspicuous clothing.
When I turn 80, I plan to wear extremely bright and shiny clothing and hope to be laughing most of the time. That will be my dress code. Believe it.
I have become an observer of the aging process. You spend the first 60 years on an upward climb attaining milestones such as childhood, leaving one’s family, pursuing an education and career, looking for a lifetime partner, finding a place to live and set down roots, possibly having one’s own children, keeping it all together. Then there is a point where the incline levels off and starts to aim in a downward direction. Sixty happens to be my year and I have noticed a definite psychological shift. There are no more milestones. In fact there seems to be a process of shedding. There are so many things that do not need my attention. Because other people, things, events will work themselves out in their own time. I make this claim because worrying about everyone and everything was a former full-time occupation. That brings me to my mother who is 87 years old and undergoing a sort of personal Renaissance. She is living in a Elder Home on Main Street. There are 39 apartments with mostly single folks. She is making friends and possibly enemies. It makes me wonder if the downward slide of shedding is not what it seems.
Kitchen Garden seeds arrived in the mail yesterday.
Tricolor Snap Bean Blend
Detroit Dark Red Beets
Rainbow Carrot Mixture
Iznik Bush Cucumbers
Multy Jewel Lettuce Mixture
Nathalie Bell Peppers
Wee Be Little Pumpkins
Milano Black Zuchinni Squash
Bon Bon Buttercup Winter Squash
Glacier Early Tomatoes