It has been a while since I even looked into this blog. I know that I vowed to write more but somehow things seem to get in the way.
I turned 70 this year and though my mind finds it hard to accept, my body reminds me on a daily basis. Since I last wrote I have had a knee replacement and another lens replaced with plastic. Pretty soon there will be less of the real me than the replacement parts. I am not complaining though, without those interventions I would not be able to function at all well, so I blunder on through what some call the twilight years.
My main reason for being here in blogville today is to revisit and copy some of the entries into a printable format. It is a vanity I suppose that makes me want to pass on the contents of my mind to my children and grandchildren, though I don't suppose in reality, anyone will be at all interested. That is the nature of our endings. Nothing that is not materially of value will be committed to black plastic bags and either binned or donated to charity shops, ready to complete another cycle.
Since I last made an entry here the only writing I have done has been with a creative writing group. It is a small selective group of old ladies and myself and we meet when everyone is available, which seems less and less often. The world has a habit of getting in the way of things. It is an outlet however and I need outlets. Most of my time is spent at home and much of that time I am alone. I find that I like people less and less and choose not to venture out unless I have to. Pubs and restaurants are noisy, it seems that many find it necessary to shout and I find it very hard to follow a conversation.
So I have become the grumpy old man who is losing faith in the human race. I am out of touch and largely out of sight and mind, and what is more it suits me.
I turned 70 this year and though my mind finds it hard to accept, my body reminds me on a daily basis. Since I last wrote I have had a knee replacement and another lens replaced with plastic. Pretty soon there will be less of the real me than the replacement parts. I am not complaining though, without those interventions I would not be able to function at all well, so I blunder on through what some call the twilight years.
My main reason for being here in blogville today is to revisit and copy some of the entries into a printable format. It is a vanity I suppose that makes me want to pass on the contents of my mind to my children and grandchildren, though I don't suppose in reality, anyone will be at all interested. That is the nature of our endings. Nothing that is not materially of value will be committed to black plastic bags and either binned or donated to charity shops, ready to complete another cycle.
Since I last made an entry here the only writing I have done has been with a creative writing group. It is a small selective group of old ladies and myself and we meet when everyone is available, which seems less and less often. The world has a habit of getting in the way of things. It is an outlet however and I need outlets. Most of my time is spent at home and much of that time I am alone. I find that I like people less and less and choose not to venture out unless I have to. Pubs and restaurants are noisy, it seems that many find it necessary to shout and I find it very hard to follow a conversation.
So I have become the grumpy old man who is losing faith in the human race. I am out of touch and largely out of sight and mind, and what is more it suits me.
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