Aging Day By Day February 13, 2010

My husband is off walking the dogs and it feels like it did the times he took over with the kids when they were little. First I was exhilarated that they were gone and I was free, free, free and then I tried to figure out what to do with myself. My weekday routine includes walking the dogs as the first order of business, so here I am after ten am with no fresh air in my lungs. Thus, the brain doesn't function well, and I feel at loose ends. You know that thing about dogs looking like their owners? I'm afraid I have begun to resemble a lab, a grey wolf lab mix, maybe. The neck. Oh, dear. I have practically as many layers as they do. I wish my neck was covered in soft, chocolate brown fur. Yeah, I could do the scarf thing, as Nora Ephron writes so brilliantly about. But you see, I don't really have a neck to get a scarf around. The chins are folded upon the shoulders, and if I try a scarf, it ends up covering my nose and chin like a bandit. I've even attempted the instructions on scarf tying in the magazines, but no luck. And since I'm only five feet tall, there is definitely a danger of that Isadora Duncan thing happening. I need a super short, super thin scarf - but no, then I'd look like Scarlett O'Hara morphing into Whatever Happened to Baby Jane. I need to distract the eye upward, but to what? My glasses? A large, bucket shaped hat on my head? I can't wear hats either. Though due to fear of skin cancer I wear hats, but the brim kind, which further sink me down and leave little visible except my lack of a neck. These are the kind of problems the elderly have that we must waste our educations and experience trying to solve. How low can you sink? I'll let you know when I hit bottom.