Looking For A Green House

If I keep my blog profile updated, in a couple of weeks there's a number that will have to be changed. Or.....I may just delete the number and forget it.

That might be the best bet. At least I won't be reminded on a daily basis of what the number means.

I'm beginning to get more and more of the "getting older" e-mails that younger people think are so humorous. But be assured, younger readers! What goes around, comes around! Those things aren't nearly as entertaining at the age of late 60's as they are in the 40's and 50's.

The following is a true story.

Just last week, a very precious woman shared this with us.

Her sister had been gravely ill and had surgery. This precious little person drove to Odessa to visit her sister. When she started back home, she decided she would stop in Big Spring to visit with a niece but didn't know exactly where she lived. D. called for directions and was told to turn off the main street at a green house. The niece lived on that street.

D. said that she drove up and down, up and down that street looking for a green house. Finally she stopped at a station to get some gas and she began to tell an attendant about her dilemma. He said to her,

"Mam, I don't think you're looking for a green house. I believe you're looking for a greenhouse and it's just across the street!"

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It's things like that you have to contend with as you grow older. It gets more difficult to keep an upbeat attitude as you crawl out of bed early in the morning...reaching for a bottle of Advil to help you get started. But, so far, it's still working for me! And, I just keep plugging along.

I just hope and pray that when I reach the age of 90, I'm still looking in the bathroom mirror saying,

"Mirror, mirror, on the wall;
who's the most beautiful of all?

Golly Gee! It must be me,
I'm the only one I see!"

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Three older ladies were discussing the travails of getting older.
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One said, "Sometimes I catch myself with a jar of mayonnaise in my hand in front of the refrigerator and can't remember whether I need to put it away, or start making a sandwich."
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The second lady chimed in, "Yes, some times I find myself on the landing of the stairs and can't remember whether I was on my way up or on my way down."
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The third one responded, "Well, I'm glad I don't have that problem; knock on wood," as she rapped her knuckles on the table, then told them "That must be the door, I'll get it!"
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That's my story for the day, and I'm sticking to it!
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Truth is stranger than fiction!