I have been getting feedback from this blog. Only two followers and I get feedback .......
My daughter found this blog, this blog where I do not censor and edit my thoughts about aging or sex. She thinks I should never post here again and is sorry she found it. I suppose I can see her point. Nobody wants to picture their parents having sex. It is just something you know happens, but you don't want to think about it. Hmmmm, I feel much the same way about my children having sex. They are grown with families, but their dad still thinks of his daughters as virgins. I suffer no illusions of such, but don't really want details. Maybe she should just not read this, my delicate little flower of a daughter.
Others have said I should post more often and here I am. Today an incident occurred that made me realize I am not going to like some of the other aspects of growing old. As it stands now, my libido is struggling to survive and I can no longer eat the things I want without suffering severe repercussions.
I have been stacking firewood and restoring order to our wood pile. I am my father's daughter and I like things in nice neat stacks and zoned. I have separated the wood into categories. There is the petrified wood that will catch fire if you just create friction and burns in seconds, then there is the seasoned wood that will maintain the fire, and last but not least, the wood too green to burn unless you use an accelerant.
My husband likes the latter for some unknown reason. He will struggle with that one log that will not catch fire. He uses a propane torch in the wood stove in the house. I just gather some twigs and such and get a nice little blaze going and add some seasoned wood. Works like a charm. Well, unless he splits the wood and stacks all the new wood atop the good wood and the snow has covered the pile, then frozen over and you need a pick ax to get to the good stuff, thus creating the unruly pile. This year we are doing it my way (the right way).
I spent my morning stacking wood into piles. Some need to be sawed to a smaller size and some just need to be split. I have been working at this project all week and every muscle in my body hurts. The pads of my fingers hurt, my toes hurt.
Since we are taking a little break today to go out with some friends, I came in to get ready. I had found a patch of poison oak and poured the remainder of some highly concentrated stuff that has to be purchased at a farm supply store and is no longer legal to use. So they say. I felt a drop splash on my foot and came in to wash it.
I had a shower last night and wasn't dirty or sweaty, so I just stood in the tub ....... fully clothed in a t-shirt and capri's and set about washing my feet. I suddenly had the urge to pee. I did not make it. Two steps, that's all it was and I could not get my pants down fast enough.
Now that I have showered and changed into clothes I had not planned to wear, I am thinking about the frequency of this happening lately and am considering adult diapers ........ No, I am not! Although, it would simplify my life and I wouldn't hurt myself trying to get to the bathroom.
What does one wear over these diapers? Double knit pants with elastic waist?? So stylish. I am not ready for this. I will train my bladder to cooperate. It will be like Olympic geriatric training. This sucks!
