I guess if I stick a title over a piece of work. It would make sense to refer to it at least once in the body of that work. I could fib and say I was being ironic. Seeing as forgetfulness comes with old age. The truth however is I didn't look back. Just ploughed on and hit "publish" so dumb would be honest and dumb is a willing traveling companion whatever your age.
In just under two weeks I hit 60 and over the year in preparation for the big event I've started to develop the habits that befit a sexagenian. Involuntary noises (mutterings as opposed to biological ones) when I bend down, stand up, get in the van, get out of the van, virtually any movement really. The wearing of gloves, hat, thick jumpers and socks immediately the weather man says to expect anything other than sunshine. Commenting on the bad driving of others (while ignoring my own) and not just car owners. I give the evil eye to anyone who gets too close with their shopping trollies, prams or pushchairs.
While mentioning prams and pushchairs it seems apposite to mention my eldest daughter and her partner have had a son. He's five months old now. He seems to find me amusing. I think in part because I'm a bigger version of him, bald, make funny noises, badly co-ordinated and we both drink from bottles. I ignore anyone who calls me "grandpa" or any variant there of. While I'm happy he's around, I really don't want to be reminded of my age. So for the moment we'll just nod and say "alright?" I've explained this to him numerous times but he just dribbles at the moment.
The worst thing by far. Is reading or hearing that someone my age or worse, has died. God, does that make me feel your days are numbered. Followed immediately by a deep sense of sorrow for those they've left behind. Who will nolonger share a conversation, a hug or chocolate again. The idea that my two kids will have to sort through all my shrewd acquisitions thinking it's all junk (which it probably is) fills me with horror. The painting in the hall for instance. It's a Catherdral with some kind of grand ceremony taking place on the steps. In an impressionist style by the long dead and forgotten painter and garden designer Raymond Berrow. Reframed in a suitably grand gilt frame (courtesy of eBay ) it makes me stop and smile each and everytime I see it. Not only are the frame and picture a perfect match (smug smile, clever me) but I remember where both parts came from. How ridiculously cheap both were and the joy of carefully cleaning both and finding out the little that's written about Berrow. Before hanging it up on the wall. For me and hopeful others to enjoy. It's a safe bet it's days will be numbered very shortly after mine are up.
Although this all seems doom and gloom. It isn't. It's me waking up to the fact that time is precious. There are things to do, people to see and the words we don't say enough to those close to us, need to be said and said often.
Onwards, upwards and careering towards fulfillment and a Zimmer frame :)))
In just under two weeks I hit 60 and over the year in preparation for the big event I've started to develop the habits that befit a sexagenian. Involuntary noises (mutterings as opposed to biological ones) when I bend down, stand up, get in the van, get out of the van, virtually any movement really. The wearing of gloves, hat, thick jumpers and socks immediately the weather man says to expect anything other than sunshine. Commenting on the bad driving of others (while ignoring my own) and not just car owners. I give the evil eye to anyone who gets too close with their shopping trollies, prams or pushchairs.
While mentioning prams and pushchairs it seems apposite to mention my eldest daughter and her partner have had a son. He's five months old now. He seems to find me amusing. I think in part because I'm a bigger version of him, bald, make funny noises, badly co-ordinated and we both drink from bottles. I ignore anyone who calls me "grandpa" or any variant there of. While I'm happy he's around, I really don't want to be reminded of my age. So for the moment we'll just nod and say "alright?" I've explained this to him numerous times but he just dribbles at the moment.
The worst thing by far. Is reading or hearing that someone my age or worse, has died. God, does that make me feel your days are numbered. Followed immediately by a deep sense of sorrow for those they've left behind. Who will nolonger share a conversation, a hug or chocolate again. The idea that my two kids will have to sort through all my shrewd acquisitions thinking it's all junk (which it probably is) fills me with horror. The painting in the hall for instance. It's a Catherdral with some kind of grand ceremony taking place on the steps. In an impressionist style by the long dead and forgotten painter and garden designer Raymond Berrow. Reframed in a suitably grand gilt frame (courtesy of eBay ) it makes me stop and smile each and everytime I see it. Not only are the frame and picture a perfect match (smug smile, clever me) but I remember where both parts came from. How ridiculously cheap both were and the joy of carefully cleaning both and finding out the little that's written about Berrow. Before hanging it up on the wall. For me and hopeful others to enjoy. It's a safe bet it's days will be numbered very shortly after mine are up.
Although this all seems doom and gloom. It isn't. It's me waking up to the fact that time is precious. There are things to do, people to see and the words we don't say enough to those close to us, need to be said and said often.
Onwards, upwards and careering towards fulfillment and a Zimmer frame :)))
A new child is something to be celebrated.
ReplyDeleteI hope he will be loved, full of joy and happy more than sad.
My children are determined to not reproduce. I wish they would, but I've told them both that having a baby because your mom wants a grandchild is a REALLY stupid reason to have a baby. So I guess I'll have to figure out what to do with the little toys and baby clothes I saved.
::sigh::
I think you should post a picture of your painting, I'd like to see it. I don't know a thing about art, I only know that looking at some art brings me happiness and looking at other art makes me say, either out loud or to myself, "WTAF???"
You blogged twice in less than a month. Wow.
Thank you as always, for your comment Aims. I wouldn't bet money on your kids not changing their minds. I've worked with so many people who were adamant they weren't having a family who went and did a complete 360.
ReplyDeleteIf I can figure out how to get my pictures from my new (third-hand iPad) on to google something or other I'll stick it up.
I might do a post on my paintings and how I acquired them plus a super story of a customer whose probably responsible for the fact I have way too many :)
Congratulations on the baby (not yours, I know, but still), and the enjoying of life and what makes you happy whenever you can. Cover up well for the cold, and whenever you're ready to tell us more about your art collection, I'm all eyes!
ReplyDeleteThank you Jade, now I've figured out how to combine Blogspot, Google photos, an old iPad and an even older brain a page of misspelt words, vague punctuation and dodgy pictures is imminent:)
ReplyDelete