It’s said that the origin of the queen’s wave dates back to the era of King George V and Queen Mary, both enthusiastic wavers who after suffering wrist strains, sought a medical consultation and modified their greetings to the masses to the present day “opening a jam jar” royal motion. Continue reading “Queen’s wave”
Category: Age
The tarnished years
Back in the late ’50’s, some savvy, “Mad Men” type advertising execs came up with a catchy phrase to sell real estate in the Arizona desert to the older set. Continue reading “The tarnished years”
Freshness date
I was standing in front of the refrigerator holding a jar of salsa that I am sure, had been purchased sometime during the Eisenhower administration.
(Ok, so they didn’t have salsa back then.)
The old and flu season
My friend Laura, certainly the most fit person I know, made a seemingly innocuous admission recently that has stuck with me.
Join the resolution revolution
Just when it seems darkest, one of my tribe reaches out with a Coleman lantern and waves it in front of my face.
I am fortunate to have a family I get along with. But since they have always lived an airplane ride away, I have formed wonderful relationships over the last several decades with many friends who I will now refer to as my tribe members, since the line drawn between friends and family has become so blurred.
Today, sitting drinking my morning coffee, I get a text message from one of the tribe elders, Pam.
“Call me when you are up. I have ideas!”
Many people besides myself were impacted by the loss of my husband. Pam has found it to be especially tough, coming on the heels of a year when she helped her husband through a bout with cancer (he is now fine) and other events which have made her question her life’s purpose at this juncture. It was a tough year for all, indeedy-do, in Pam’s lingo (and as I may have mentioned ever so tactfully, in a previous blog).

But Pam has already been trying to pull herself back up by her boot straps. We are part of a core group of friends who met in junior high school and camped together a lot. We gals thought nothing of packing a cooler and tent and heading for nearby Vermont for the weekend. We still see each other. Most of us went for a walk on New Year’s Day at a local park. We have more shared experiences than we could ever hope to remember. That’s why I know my friends were happy when I met James and married. At last I had found my mate as my friends had decades before me.
In either case, back to the text message. I immediately picked up the phone and without preamble, asked Pam for a run down.
“Here’s what we’re going to do. I’m calling it six in six!”
“Like a lottery scratch off game?” I responded.
“Well, yeah…OK,” she said, used to my offbeat quips.
Pam’s idea takes the New Year’s resolution to a different level. We would each commit to plan something to do together. It could be read a book, take a day trip, sneak into the movies, steal a car (haha) – something we have either never done or want to revisit with fresh eyes, she explained. She takes six months of the year and I take six months and we plan one event per month.
We are all familiar with the typical type of singular resolution. The gyms are full of them come January. This idea appealed to me. A new twist that could inject some life back into our lives. Something we both needed desperately. It recalibrates the stale idea of making a resolution. Create a roadmap of experiences to look forward to throughout the year and share them with a friend.
I could already feel a small ember in my core, starting to be fanned ever brighter by a light breeze. It was not a giant plan, we would never conquer Everest, but maybe it could inspire us on to bigger and better?
“I love the idea!” I said to her, already starting to think of what we could do as the year unfolds.
The wheels are starting to turn, a bit resistant due to recent rust formations but moving all the same. So I dare you – go ahead – foment your own kind of revolution in 2017.
Marble and mud
There were way too many skinny people on the hike and I feared I might not be able to keep up.
I’d decided to forgo a traditional Christmas and spend the day at the Kripalu Center for Yoga & Health in the Massachusetts Berkshires. Continue reading “Marble and mud”
Why fifty is not the new thirty
One of my “younger” friends was lamenting recently about approaching her 40th birthday.
She managed to make it seem like a much-dreaded milestone while also rationalizing it at the end with that old favorite, “I know it’s just a number.” Continue reading “Why fifty is not the new thirty”