All Purls. No Swine.
It happened to me last week during a conversation with my darling Auntie Pat. (Ninety-nine next month; may she live forever.) I’d phoned her up, and after a false start in which she may have been holding the phone upside down and speaking into the earpiece (shades of my dad in the months before he died;… Continue reading That Moment When You Realize You’re Old
I’m proud of my country. Not in the Michelle Obama “first time” sense, but one which, for once, I’m comfortable “sharing” (as the abominable Markle might put it.) My Lord. So many flag wavers. You’d think the country had turned “American” all of a sudden. Loved it, from the Horse Guards, to the Trooping the… Continue reading A Very Un-British Feeling
Full disclosure: I'm 67 years old. This upcoming September (2022), I'll be 68. No point pretending otherwise. No point writing posts either celebrating--or bemoaning--my "hotness" in a previous life about half-a-century ago (so I'll spare you the bikini-beach-babe pic, unless you're really determined to view it, in which case knock yourself out). Things are what… Continue reading Semper Fi! My Marine Corps Tulips. And Some Other Stuff As Well.
I am the grandmother of an eight-year-old girl. Technically, she is my step-granddaughter, though the distinction makes no difference, I assure you. Her mother is my stepdaughter and beloved friend. Her first few years have not been idyllic. And she’s had to learn to be a little tougher than I would like, a little earlier than I would… Continue reading My “Feminist” Fever Dream
“The Analytical Engine has no pretensions whatever to originate anything. It can do whatever we know how to order it to perform.”–Augusta Ada King, Countess of Lovelace Augusta Ada Byron (she was the poet’s only legitimate child) was born a little over two-hundred-six years ago, on December 10, 1815. She was a few weeks shy… Continue reading The Analytical Engine: “Dad” Edition
So, reposting here--because just as it was appropriate for the Polish Pope's birthday, it's appropriate for Christmas--one which was originally posted on Ricochet, 5/2/2018. Funnily, I see this post has been stolen elsewhere since. It's all good. The medium is the message. And the message is what counts, no matter which of you decides to… Continue reading A Sweet Tooth (This New Year of 2022) for Song and Music
When I am an old woman I shall wear purple With a red hat which doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me. And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves And satin sandals, and say we’ve no money for butter. I shall sit down on the pavement when I’m tired And gobble up… Continue reading Quote of the Day: For the “Specially” Enabled, When it Comes to Growing Old
There. I said it. Granny Panties. LOL. I'm guessing I've lost most of the men who follow my blog. For this post, at least. But I mean it. The fact of the matter is that--almost half a century ago--even at this point in my life: my nether regions were--day to day--covered by modest, cheap and… Continue reading In Praise of Granny Panties
95-year old Queen Elizabeth gracefully declined a nomination as the 30th "Oldie of the Year," an annual award given by Oldie Magazine, a "light-hearted alternative to a press obsessed with youth and celebrity." Previously celebrated by the annual tongue-in-cheek award, among others, were John Major (politics), Olivia de Haviland (entertainment), Glenda Jackson (entertainment) and Ian… Continue reading Queen Declines ‘Oldie of the Year’ Award: You Go, Ma’am (as in ‘ham’)!
In my Autumn garden I was fain To mourn among my scattered roses; Alas for that last rosebud which uncloses To Autumn’s languid sun and rain When all the world is on the wane! Which has not felt the sweet constraint of June, Nor heard the nightingale in tune Broad-faced asters by my garden walk,… Continue reading An October Garden