A glass of white wine, a blank page, and a prompt to share my world. Let’s begin, shall we?
How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you are?
As so many have answered to Cee’s question, it depends. Some days, I’m a petulant 6-year-old. Others, I’m a rebellious teen, tired of all of the lessons that the universe is insisting that I learn. I shake my fist at the skies and holler, “Enough already. I want my gown and cap. I’m ready to graduate!”
Then, of course, there are days when I feel like an old, old woman. Like today, as I minced my way gingerly along the icy path.
Actually, I’ve always felt like an old soul.
Do any of you remember a story book from the 50’s and 60’s called 365 Bedtime Stories by Nan Gilbert? It was required reading before lights out, in my childhood home. A full year of one-page stories followed the happy adventures of the children who lived on What-a-Jolly Street. A little old lady, Mrs. Apricot, lived in the big house at the end of the street, and often the kids gathered at her feet to hear her stories.
I recall identifying with that old woman. Not Suzy, not Ruthy, but Mrs. Apricot. It surprised me to learn that she is considered the main character. I don’t have that recollection. To me, the stories featured the assorted children and the old gal equally.
But I did identify with her. Was that because I am an old lady at heart? I have always worn old lady clothing: sensible shoes, comfortable and worn shirts and slacks, nothing stylish. (Apologies to the stylish little old ladies everywhere!)
A few years ago, when I just started to blog, I bought a copy of the book. I had planned to use the daily readings as writing prompts, and to perhaps write a contemporary version. Or, like the producers of Riverdale who have re-created a less wholesome version of Archie and his gang, I would write about the dark side of What-a-Jolly Street. But I can’t bring myself to go that route. Partly because I don’t have the imagination to carry it off, but also because I don’t want to delve into the nastiness. Of course, it might just be that I don’t want to sully my fond memory of those stories.
So, you’re on your way out and it’s raining. Do you know where your umbrella is or do you frantically search for it all over your apartment/house?
It’s in the closet at the top of the stairs. I rarely use it. If it’s raining, I don’t go out if I don’t need to. If I do, I’ll wear a hat, or a hood. I’m not made of sugar.
Do you recharge your energy by going out with friends for a good time or by spending with quiet time alone?
Again, like so many of my blogging pals, I recharge home alone. With a cat. Maybe a glass of wine. Or two. Yes, two, I think. One moment, please – the glass needs topping up.
Name three things you and your spouse, partner or best friend to have in common.
A love of (or, more accurately, an abiding and desperate need to be in) nature; a love of cats; a sense of wonderment and gratitude that we are now retired and that we have enough.
Optional Bonus question: What are you grateful for from last week, and what are you looking forward to in the week coming up?
Oh, my, but did the sun shine bright last week, or what? Spectacular blue skies. Today and yesterday have been grey and gloomy, and presently the winds are blowing fiercely. Tonight, the temperature will plummet to minus 21C. We will put on the fire, maybe watch an episode of Last Chance to See, and that might just be the last fire of the winter.
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