During this crazy quarantine time, what exactly are folks to do? Many cannot go to work, schools are closed and the economy is grinding to a slow burn. In some cases, both parents are home with the kids, day after day. Many have learned the value of teachers and many have dreamed up some great ideas to fill the hours of endless days.
There is one dad, who, upon hearing the word 'dadasaurus', spoken by one of his daughters, instantly turns into a velociraptor. It does not seem to matter where or what the occasion might be, but the daughters video this and put in on social media. I laughed, until I cried, watching him attack a cake sitting on the kitchen counter and also came to the conclusion his wife is an absolute saint. If in need of a good laugh, please google 'dadasaurus'.
One engineering parent made their kids an enclosed slide for the indoor stairway by taping boxes together. The child lays on a mat or towel and down the box tunnel slide they go. The smiles, as they emerge from the end of the slide, on their faces are worth every piece of duct tape used in the project.
A young man turned his basement into his own private amusement park/gym. He can leap off the steps, land on a suspended kangaroo ball, swing out over a small trampoline, flip off the ball, land on the trampoline, bound back up into the air, catch the kangaroo ball on the return swing and end up back on the stairs. Sounds like a rocket scientist in the making.
Lots of people have taken to cooking. There are more recipes scrolling through the social media sights now, than there are during the Christmas holidays. Of course, these new dishes have to be eaten and several people have lamented about just how much they have eaten during 'lockdown'. But, there is always a solution to this problem and the diet and physical fitness industries are not experiencing a lack of followers.
One young entrepreneur, a boy of nearly 13, has taken to chopping wood. Where he lives, there is no shortage of downed trees and although fire wood may not be a huge commodity right now, he's planning for the future and cleaning up a lot of brush piles on the side.
Speaking of cleaning, it is probably safe to say that more closets and garages have been cleaned in the last month than for an entire year. One good lesson from this is folks realizing how they can actually do with less, along with making a few dollars off the local online swap shop.
Having not been able to do yard work for nearly four years, due to city living, I have now made up for all that lost time. I've trimmed and cut brush until sunset. I've also learned how to make fire. I've come to understand the importance of a good kindling base in order to have a roaring fire as the ultimate goal. I've also discovered that if the base fails, a leaf blower makes a heck of a bellows.
Tuesday, April 21, 2020
Tuesday, April 7, 2020
Aging: 101
It's a sure bet, and I'm a terrible gambler, to say that millions, if not trillions, of dollars are spent yearly on anti-aging products. Just type 'anti-aging' into a search bar and within a millisecond, there will be over 300 million items to choose from. If an individual spent five minutes researching each item, well, they would probably be found as a skeleton, with their bony little fingers still resting on the keyboard, many years later. That would be irony at its finest.
I will be the first to admit that it is sometimes hard growing old in a world that is geared towards the young. Standing in the foyer of the gymnasium, 45 plus years ago, waiting to graduate from high school, many of us were laughing about how old we would be when the year 2000 rolled around. It seemed like that was eons away and we would never grow old.
Of course, there are the things that no one told us about getting older. They didn't tell us about our hair. That one day, it may fall out, or get thin AND it was going to change color, all by itself. They didn't tell us that same hair would also decide to grow in places it never had before. This is especially true for women. Maybe it just got tired of being on top of ones head and thought it would look much nicer on top of the upper lip, or perhaps the chin. It would also decide that is was not necessary to grow on the legs anymore. Those who thought this was maybe not a bad idea are usually those that find one 3 inch hair, sticking straight up, off the top of a knee, the first time they don a pair of shorts for summer....after they are already in some public place.
They didn't tell us about our skin. The once taught organ, that we thought defined us into warriors of our time, somehow lost some of its elasticity. We never knew that over the years, gravity would take its toll and begin to pull, ever so slightly, on our precious covering. Making it look longer than it should be and even allowing it to fold over on itself, like a blanket. Hanging upside down, like a bat, might have helped that situation, but no one told us that either.
They didn't tell us to take care of our knees, and other joints. That they could become swollen and ache. No one stressed upon us that these things were necessary, in order to continue to carry us around, from place to place, point A to point B. But, we were invincible, that would never happen to us. Not those teenagers, standing in that foyer, with the world by the tail. Maybe someone did try to tell us but, like the lyrics of a song, "they did not listen, they did not know how, perhaps they'll listen now". 'Now' comes much later.
There are all kinds of things available today to combat these changes in our physique. Lotions, potions, surgeries with plastic. Exercise, diets, bikes, treadmills. The ones that have worked the best for me have been the ability to close my eyes and still be, on the inside, that girl in the foyer, avoiding mirrors and bathroom scales. But, there is always something or someone to help remind us, or slap us back to reality. I was on the receiving end of this very thing, not too long ago.
My two youngest grandsons were helping me move my art studio, again. The oldest, nearly 16, of this duo was taking a break, sitting in my desk chair. I reached over the top of the desk to retrieve some old photos. An old friend had sent them to me. She had run across them during a recent downsizing of she and her husbands' space. (That's another thing they didn't tell us, that we really don't need a bunch of stuff.) Anyway, they were pictures of several young girls, frolicking in their pajamas during their stay at a cheerleading camp. I tossed the pictures in front of my grandson. He picked them up, laughed and then began to study each one. He looked at me and said, "G, who are these girls?" I didn't respond, just smiled.
He was laughing about one girl, in her one piece pajamas, complete with the drop seat in the back. "G! Who is this?" By this time, he's nearly snorting.
I smiled once again and said, "Me."
His mouth fell open, his eyes were as wide as saucers as he gave the photo another close inspection. Then, with all the sincerity of his youth, he looked at me and spoke these words...."G, what happened!?"
LOL!, I have no idea.
I will be the first to admit that it is sometimes hard growing old in a world that is geared towards the young. Standing in the foyer of the gymnasium, 45 plus years ago, waiting to graduate from high school, many of us were laughing about how old we would be when the year 2000 rolled around. It seemed like that was eons away and we would never grow old.
Of course, there are the things that no one told us about getting older. They didn't tell us about our hair. That one day, it may fall out, or get thin AND it was going to change color, all by itself. They didn't tell us that same hair would also decide to grow in places it never had before. This is especially true for women. Maybe it just got tired of being on top of ones head and thought it would look much nicer on top of the upper lip, or perhaps the chin. It would also decide that is was not necessary to grow on the legs anymore. Those who thought this was maybe not a bad idea are usually those that find one 3 inch hair, sticking straight up, off the top of a knee, the first time they don a pair of shorts for summer....after they are already in some public place.
They didn't tell us about our skin. The once taught organ, that we thought defined us into warriors of our time, somehow lost some of its elasticity. We never knew that over the years, gravity would take its toll and begin to pull, ever so slightly, on our precious covering. Making it look longer than it should be and even allowing it to fold over on itself, like a blanket. Hanging upside down, like a bat, might have helped that situation, but no one told us that either.
They didn't tell us to take care of our knees, and other joints. That they could become swollen and ache. No one stressed upon us that these things were necessary, in order to continue to carry us around, from place to place, point A to point B. But, we were invincible, that would never happen to us. Not those teenagers, standing in that foyer, with the world by the tail. Maybe someone did try to tell us but, like the lyrics of a song, "they did not listen, they did not know how, perhaps they'll listen now". 'Now' comes much later.
There are all kinds of things available today to combat these changes in our physique. Lotions, potions, surgeries with plastic. Exercise, diets, bikes, treadmills. The ones that have worked the best for me have been the ability to close my eyes and still be, on the inside, that girl in the foyer, avoiding mirrors and bathroom scales. But, there is always something or someone to help remind us, or slap us back to reality. I was on the receiving end of this very thing, not too long ago.
My two youngest grandsons were helping me move my art studio, again. The oldest, nearly 16, of this duo was taking a break, sitting in my desk chair. I reached over the top of the desk to retrieve some old photos. An old friend had sent them to me. She had run across them during a recent downsizing of she and her husbands' space. (That's another thing they didn't tell us, that we really don't need a bunch of stuff.) Anyway, they were pictures of several young girls, frolicking in their pajamas during their stay at a cheerleading camp. I tossed the pictures in front of my grandson. He picked them up, laughed and then began to study each one. He looked at me and said, "G, who are these girls?" I didn't respond, just smiled.
He was laughing about one girl, in her one piece pajamas, complete with the drop seat in the back. "G! Who is this?" By this time, he's nearly snorting.
I smiled once again and said, "Me."
His mouth fell open, his eyes were as wide as saucers as he gave the photo another close inspection. Then, with all the sincerity of his youth, he looked at me and spoke these words...."G, what happened!?"
LOL!, I have no idea.
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