Aging Gracefully – No Way!

For anyone who is still in the dark and doesn’t know about my new book, my latest western, Loving Matilda was released February 9. See the end of this post for more info.

With that out of the way, I still have books to write. But I intend to spend a little less time writing for the next few weeks and spend some time taking care of some personal things such as housekeeping, which I neglect completely while writing. But when I look into the mirror, I think I need to spend some time on myself. What the heck happened?

I realize the house needs a new coat of paint in a few rooms. But it’s not so easy with one’s body, which is really a shame. A fresh coat of paint works wonders. I want the same results in a bottle of perfumed oil that I can paint on me!

Since I don’t have tons of money, I’m going to have to live with the changes that time has wrought. There’s nothing I can do about the fact that my face has decided it wants to become my chin. Who knew?

And my chin willingly is accommodating this southbound movement by turning into a wattle. Apparently, that will make me very sexy and attractive to female chickens. And considering I don’t have a backyard full of chickens, I’m not going to be feeling any warm fuzzies when I walk outside. Unfortunately, humans don’t find it as attractive as our feathered friends.

A few years ago, I woke up and discovered that I had bat wings or flying squirrel arms, I’m not sure which. They weren’t there when I went to bed. Then that feminine post-baby bump deflated and fell one night about 35 years after that child was born. After the fall, I had an “apron”. I’m getting seriously tired of body parts shifting position. What used to be here is now down there. Why is that?

Even the girls are in competition to see which one can make it to my waist first. You’d think they would be on my side. Truthfully, they are. When I lie on my back, they slide over and snuggle under my arms.

If it is supposed to be tight, it is loose, and if it is supposed to be loose, it’s so tight nothing short of extensive physiotherapy will permit its movement. First it was the knees, followed by the ankles, now it’s a shoulder. I need to replace a few things in the house. I’m not about to start replacing body parts!

My legs look great -in a pair of skinny jeans. Peel those jeans off and I have road maps. Blue and red legs are not pretty, but wait… With all the tattoos, I could just tattoo the names of a few cities on them and I’ll be with the times. This calf is NYC and here’s LaGuardia Airport.  This one is DC, and LA is over there on the other leg. That wide blue line is Interstate 95. A few stars for Points of Interest and I’m in style.

I’m officially old. It’s true. I was in a tiny, locally-owned restaurant and chatted with the young waitress there. She’s in her early 20’s,  going to college, just the cutest little thing, and as sweet as she can be. The last time I had seen her, a friend and I had stopped in one snowy evening. We were the only customers there. Well, this area never gets really huge snowstorms, but I was telling her about the last one I had been in. Apparently she went home and told her parents and younger siblings my story. When she saw me again, she couldn’t wait to tell me what everyone had said. Her recount to me was, I told my family about this old lady who comes into the restaurant and…

Omigod, she was talking about me! I’m not old! My hair isn’t gray. Okay, I’ll admit my hairdresser does a wonderful job of blending/hiding what gray I do have. It’s nothing more than a silver streak right in the front and a few threads here and there. I’m just not ready for silver hair. But silver hair does not make me old. I know plenty of people go gray in their twenties.

I refuse to be old! I’m not even old enough to collect Social Security. I married young, had my children when I was young, and I’m still way too young to be a widow. I’ve reached that point in my life where I’m young enough to do anything I please, and too old to do anything that I don’t want to do. That’s not a bad place to be.

drumsdrumsDrum roll, please!

Here’s my new book.

EA

Loving Matilda

E. Ayers

http://amzn.to/241E1cR

Matilda “Matt” Berwyn, forced to live disguised as a boy in a mining town, longs to escape and blossom into the female she’s always wanted to be. But her desire to leave Morgan’s Crossing escalates when she realizes she’s being stalked.

Stockyard hand Zeke Hillerman knows her secret and has fallen in love with her. He helps her flee to his parents’ home in the east to learn to be a lady, while he struggles to start his own ranch. As Matilda grapples with Victorian expectations of young women, Zeke’s plans for their future unravel, and he realizes that the cost of her ticket out of Morgan’s Crossing may have been his own heart.

 

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18 Responses to Aging Gracefully – No Way!

  1. My hair is grey, since it was costing me too much money to keep dying it, and I wasn’t fooling me, since I know when my birthdate is! So I just said, “Hell with it,” and let it go silver. Husband calls me his “Silver Fox.” What-evs.

    Otherwise, your pain is my pain. Got all of the sags and tightnesses, like you describe. But I work 2 jobs, in addition to my writing, so I try not to feel my age every often. I try not to act it much either.

    Thanks for letting me know I’m not alone!

    Liked by 1 person

    • E. Ayers says:

      Oh, you are not alone. Besides I have no desire to try and look 25 again or do the things I did then. As long as I mentally feel 20 years younger, that’s great.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Calisa Rhose says:

    Oh to be forty again! lol I began finding gray hairs in my late twenties and now I dye it because it frightens me to think how little brown is truly left. When I dyed it last my daughter threatened to cut it off at two inches and make me all gray! Uh–no…. Just no. But I’m not old either. I’m over fifty, but under Social Security by quite a few years. Young. Don’t always feel it physically, but mentally I do most of the time. Great post. Good luck with Matilda!

    Liked by 1 person

    • E. Ayers says:

      I have one really strong silver streak in the front. My mom had that same streak but got it much younger. I look like the mean step-mother from the children’s book. But now the kids are all bleaching their hair silver. Fine, let it be the “in” color if you are 22, but I’m not about to show off that silver. 🙂

      Thanks for stopping, Calisa.

      Like

  3. jelquinn says:

    I shudder as I read this. It’s so true. A couple years ago, something dropped from my purse. A young man picked it up and said, You dropped this, Miss. I practically kissed him for not calling me ma’am.

    Liked by 1 person

    • E. Ayers says:

      When younger people call me by my married name instead of my first name. UGH! I feel so old. Of course here in the south we get Miss and the first name. So it’s Miss Elizabeth. That’s still better than Mrs….

      Like

      • msspencerauthor says:

        I don’t know about that. I feel uncomfortable when a young person calls me by my first name. Maybe it’s my formal upbringing or desire to be respected for my age & experience. Although I admit I love it when buying wine & the cashier asks for my ID. 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

        • E. Ayers says:

          Guess I don’t live a very formal life. I even told my children when in public do not call mom. “Mom!” will make every mother in the grocery store turn and look. Call me by my name. It only happened on a few occasions. Now their friends who always said Mrs…. when they were growing up call me by my first name. I like it. I’m a blue jean person and it fits. 🙂

          Like

  4. msspencerauthor says:

    Old? Nah.Since I had a summer birthday and skipped a grade, I was always at least a year younger than my classmates/colleagues–it was great. How did that change? Love the tattoo idea–may even use it. Can you have full anesthesia for a tattoo?

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Oh, I know the feeling. I dye my hair or it would be silver. And not silver all over, but mostly on one side. As for the last of me, well, I just blame gravity.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Jean Lamb says:

    I saw a Maxine cartoon once where she said, ‘I used to be a 34D. Now I’m a 42 long…’ I told my husband this, and he said his body parts stretched with age, too, but it wasn’t much fun when one of them hit the water in the toilet when he was sitting down.

    I’m almost Social Security age, but took early retirement so I could write (and look after him, he’s on his third round of chemo). But I have 30 books to write.

    Liked by 1 person

    • E. Ayers says:

      I’ve always loved Maxine! She’s great.
      Enjoy that early retirement. Yes, and write.
      Wishing hubby all the best on his chemo! That’s a tough battle but worth winning.

      Like

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