Julie Andrews makes me smile

I can see this coming..... I got this as an email this morning, and had to grin. I think you will enjoy it too.

To commemorate her 69th birthday on October 1, actress/vocalist, Julie Andrews made a special appearance at Manhattan's Radio City Music Hall for the benefit of the AARP. One of the musical numbers she performed was "My Favorite Things" fromthe legendary movie "Sound Of Music".

Here are the lyrics she used:

Maalox and nose drops and needles for knitting,
Walkers and handrails and new dental fittings,
Bundles of magazines tied up in string,
These are a few of my favorite things.
Cadillacs and cataracts, and hearing aids and glasses,
Polident and Fixodent and false teeth in glasses,
Pacemakers, golf carts and porches with swings,
These are a few of my favorite things.

When the pipes leak,
When the bones creak,
When the knees go bad,
I simply remember my favorite things,
And then I don't feel so bad.

Hot tea and crumpets and corn pads for bunions,
No spicy hot food or food cooked with onions,
Bathrobes and heating pads and hot meals they bring,
These are a few of my favorite things.
Back pains, confused brains, and no need for sinnin',
Thin bones and fractures and hair that is thinnin',
And we won't mention our short shrunken frames,
When we remember our favorite things.

When the joints ache,
When the hips break,
When the eyes grow dim,
Then I remember the great life I've had,
And then I don't feel so bad.

Julie Andrews received a standing ovation from the crowd that lasted for over four minutes and repeated encores.

I wonder what I would change the lyrics to. Maybe we could all do our own versions!

In this skin - Woman to Woman

Aging. Well, I can honestly say that I have never worried about turning 20, 30, 40, 50 or for that matter, 60 or 70 etc etc. I have got as far as the 50s so far, and while I have seen some people really go into a decline at the thought of getting older, the numbers have never mattered to me. Why? I have no idea. I have just got on with my life. Aging brings the wisdom (I hope!) of experience. I have added the label "aging" at the bottom, for other posts I have written about growing older, so hop on over and read the Health Warning!

My 50th was a birthday to remember.... 80 of my friends celebrated with me, and we had a "Wear the glitter, girls" evening. Nothing quiet and understated, you understand. My friends gave me a scroll saw. How perfect is that. I had wanted one for ever! We dressed up, and the men were in DJs, and the evening was just perfect. Music, food and all. I may be posting about aging for the next 2 weeks. So much to say! That is what happens .... you get verbal diorrhea as you get older.

When I was a student, my friend and I decided that we would take good care of our skin, because we didn't want to turn 40 and regret not using the moisturisers etc, and so I have always worn makeup, but not a lot. As long as I look ok when I go out, I am fine. I will never be really glamorous or gorgeous, but I am definitely ok. Ok is good enough for me. I have no idea whether it has made a difference, but at least we tried! I was just 21 when I got married, back then in the dark ages.

You know, if I want to do something, I never stop to think that "at my age" I should do x, y or z. If I want to wear jeans I do. If I want long hair, I grow it. If I want to go in a hot air balloon, I will go. I don't see age as a restriction, rather as a license to try anything.

At 52, I feel as though I am in my 30s, I suppose. I never think about the actual figures at all. I enjoy young people. No.... I just enjoy all people, whether young or old. I love kids. I like talking to people. I like meeting people. I am not sure if I have ever let "what people might think" govern my actions. If it is right and good then I do it. I will dance with the babes in the street. I will crawl into a playhouse (providing there is no camera to capture my posterior for posterity), and I will go to gym and look like the bride of Frankenstein, without worry. I remember when we joined the gym a few years back, my friends and I informed the 16 (it seemed) year old trainer that we wanted to look like Geri Halliwell in 2 weeks. He looked at us and told us he could see we would be trouble. We also suggested that anyone wearing lycra should only be allowed in at restricted times so we would not get too depressed. Youth does not intimidate me, nor do I long to recapture it.

I am lucky. I am fit and healthy, and strong, and I love being active. My bone density is very good. And I was very very lucky to breeze through the menopause with no signs at all. Not one. It can happen. Hair? Highlights are essential, but I do like the idea that grey hairs are "stress highlights". I can go with that. Aging means you will definitely be an expert on stress. It is part of life.

I think the secret to aging with grace is to have a sense of humour, an ability to laugh at yourself, a willingness to keep learning and a zest for life and all the living left to do. I have a "to do" list of things I want to do before I die. It grows by the year. Places to see, things to learn and do, stuff to make, experiences to have. I have dreams and ambitions and hopes. There is always something to be thankful for. If you take the time to learn from the young too, (like I have to every day at work and here at home with technology) you can be a part of today's world. That is why some of us are here today posting. The younger ones showed us how to do it, and look what we gained!

Don't get me wrong, things do get a little creaky now and then. Things sag and bag, and that is not exactly wonderful, although I have never thought plastic surgery a necessity. I have considered the possibility of pulling the skin on the top of my head up and tying it in a bow, to "lift" everything, but alas it is anatomically impossible.

There is the fact that you have to deal with death and empty nests, and I absolutely refuse to sit here and be a victim. I have said many times that I raised my kids to fly, and so they have. Make no mistake, I love them all to distraction, but I am not a clingy Mum, nor do I want to live through my kids. They are all part of me, and I am part of them too, but they have lives to lead and adventures to have, and memories to make of their own. So do I. My oldest son will be 30 soon. My daughter is 26 and my baby is 18 soon. How did that happen? Where did the years go? I can tell you where..... I have the photos and memories right here. It has been a crazy ride.

I am a colonial in spirit, I suppose. I am not hidebound by convention, and I see life as a wonderful gift. Who knows how long any of us have? I want to be like my Mum, who went off in leathers on the back of a trike for a ride on her 80th birthday. My Gran was skip of her bowls club at 89. Age is a state of mind. Some of my friends are my children's age. Some are a decade or so older than me. It doesn't matter at all. I certainly don't see age as a barrier to anything.

We are each unique. Our DNA, our fingerprints and possibly footprints and other prints are ours alone. Unique. Special. We, as women, are too. Shaped by the lives we have led, and experiences we have been through. As the years pass, discernment grows, and the things that really matter sharpen in our minds. They do not rely on being a reflection of the images we see in magazines, or impossible models of perfection. It becomes clear that it is the flaws that make us human and real, and that that is exactly what the essence of life is all about.

So...in this skin..... yes.

It fits just fine. It is comfortable. It is not perfect, but it will do. It has come a long way with the rest of me. It has seen places and things. It has felt the extremes of weather. It has felt the touch of babies and the people who matter to me. It has flaws. It bears the scars of 52 years of life. It has felt tears of laughter and of sadness. It has been stretched by my children, and it has an interesting story to tell. It fits.

I am comfortable in it. I belong in it. I am thankful.

Morning Glory and Lei are hosting Woman to Woman today. Go and read some of the other posts on "In this skin".

Door frames are hazardous to your health

I do not recommend walking into door frames. At speed. And if I sound a little discombobulated, it is because I probably have concussion. There I was sailing through a Friday timetable with unusual ease for a change, when I attempted to talk to someone and walk through a door at the same time. I thought women were supposed to be able to multitask. I turned my head in the direction I was walking as I hit the door frame in a specatular fashion. With my head. I am going to look just stunning by tomorrow. Black and blue. Thank heavens for those instant icepack things. I must say, my difficult year 9s were gems, but then that could be because everything was a little blurry at the time, and maybe I missed the bad bits. It is something of a challenge to teach while clutching an ice pack to your head at the same time. And with the mother and father of all headaches.

Personally, I think this is all Morning glory's fault. She told us to think about aging, and I am clearly doing my best to provide a living example of an aging, short sighted, doddery old woman who doesn't look where she is going. Warning! This is what happens when you find out that you are not as young as you think you are. It is just as well I don't have any exotic plans for the weekend requiring me to look glamorous.

One of my friends helpfully suggested that I hang a sign round my neck saying that I am a teacher. Then everyone will assume that I have been banging my head against a brick wall.

It is the weekend. I am now going to go and be weak and feeble. And I will be avoiding all mirrors while I mope.

Health Warning

I have spent my whole life bouncing about in a fit and healthy state. In fact, my entire family has been remarkably fit and healthy, for which I am truely thankful. I have breezed through life believing that disprin can cure all, and if that didn't work then quite obviously major medical intervention was the alternative. I never believed my kids were sick until the school sent them home. Whenever they announced they were ailing, I checked to see if there was a test on that day. I have been a seriously tough mother! Ros and I spent many an hour discussing the fact that the older generation seemed obsessed with tablets, and doctor's appointments, and smugly declared that we, of course would not be like that when we were in our 70s and 80s. We were young, strong and invincible. 21Century superwomen. Of course. The arthritic hands were acceptable. That came from over use of course. But we were tough.

Oh Lord, have those assumptions ever come back to haunt me!! This is a warning to all of you who are young, fit and healthy. The day you turn 50 everything falls apart. Bits break. Things stop working. Your mind still thinks you are 29 but your body goes on strike. You start creaking, even if you go to gym. I look like a crone when I get out of a chair. A bulge appears where your waist used to be. This is particularly noticeable when you do up the seat belt in the car. Standing up and walking in jeans is perfect. Sitting is not an option. That bulge works its way north and you cease breathing. And the non bulging bits start drooping just to get in on the act.
If you are female, your 50th birthday is blessed by an invitation to have a mammogram. Such a kind and thoughtful present. I went, and was recalled for further tests, which mean you plan your funeral in 10 seconds after opening the letter. I was fine, I hasten to add, but I did enquire whether anyone had ever exploded during the process.


For someone who had never darkened the door of the doctor's surgery, becoming someone who suggested bringing a sleeping bag after about 16 visits in one week in a flash of an eye was and is hard to accept. I feel I should have a special chair reserved there for my personal use. From never having a prescription for medicine, to the pharmacist suggesting I take out a pre-pay plan because I needed a shopping bag for all the pills, is too big a shock. Everything takes longer to fix. I nearly had a panic attack last week when I discovered while at a party, that I had left my painkillers at home. I have become that older generation I referred to. Conversations start and end with how are you today? How is the head/ foot/ neck/back/stomach / stress etc etc. I cannot tell you how depressing it is. And it is self-perpetuating. You get more stressed just thinking about it all, therefore the blood pressure soars towards the stratosphere.........and off you go on the cycle again. Groan. And I will not discuss what happens to your short term memory either right now. That is worthy of a blog post of its own.

And it is not just me! Everyone sems to suddenly have developed high blood pressure / diabetes/wheat intolerance / bowel problems / kidney stones / gallstones / protein levels unlevel or heart problems. And the "you need to cut down your stress levels" generalisation drives me up the wall. I am 52. Of course I am stressed. I am alive. This is absolutely not an option. You go to the doctor for a check up, and then you are called back for blood tests, urine tests, monitoring, more blood tests and so it goes. I think it is a plot really. A conspiracy. I am quite happy not knowing if anything is wrong. When I grind to a total halt I will do something. Right now I just don't want to know.

So remember............ do NOT not go past 49. You will stay there and then nothing will break. I wonder if Boots still sells those little pill things which have days on so I don't forget what to take when.......