What the Blog am I Doing

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Just like I figured. After years of friends telling me I should have a blog, like they knew I would have an instant & vast readership who would read-me-up to the blogosphere in much the same way dear old Scotty was beamed aboard the Starship, enabling me  to impart my opinion, wit, intelligence, bad grammar and typos to any passer bye who keys in the number sixty–I’m here doing it. And, if I might add -shockingly inadequate to the task.
Sixty is a brave undertaking. There is no going back. No pretending to be young. No passing for anything younger – the way woman who use Palmolive dish soap can fool you into thinking their sixty year old hands aren’t covered in bulging veins and liver spots. Even my hands look young when they’re hidden behind mounds of white bubbles.
Sixty is sixty, six decades into life with only the home stretch in front of you. Could be today or thirty years from today but if a sixty year old knows anything for certain: the blog will end.

The Author

Quintessential Berkeley Homemaker

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