SIXTY. REALLY?

8-20-1952. The day I was born. Younger readers will think that's the dark ages, and in some ways, they'd be right. It was actually dark at night on Long Island. You couldn't see your hand in front of your face if the moon was new and you were out in the woods or at Gram's farm and out back in the orchard. There were still lots of places that didn't have streetlights. When you were lucky enough to be out at night, it was fun and mysterious. I remember driving to my grandmother's house in the dark, and how the trees overhanging the roads were like a tunnel that was lit only by the headlights of the family car. Mysterious, I tell ya! I loved it. Every once in a while I'll be driving somewhere and notice that effect; andit's like going into a time warp. I feel young and adventurous. The funny thing is, I really do still feel young. I remember my grandmother telling me that even though she was getting older on the outside (she was sixty-nine at the time), on the inside she still felt like she did when she was eighteen. I decided then that she had some particular wisdom about the situation, and that I would do the same. She lived to be ninety-two. I think she really had something there.
But sixty! How the heck did I get here? Wasn't I just thirty a few years ago? I guess not, because my eldest daughter turned forty this year. That was one of the few birthdays that made me realize that I really am old enough to be hearing from AARP, and that I can eat the senior citizen meals in the restaurants.(I don't). Did you know that many supermarkets give discounts to seniors on certain days of the week? I didn't either. I just found out a few weeks ago. I refuse to identify myself for the five percent I'll save. If I begin to think of myself as a senior, I may defeat my grandmother's inheritance of a youthful interior. That's way more valuable than two bucks at the checkout counter. 
 So....HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME! I received lots of beautiful cards, and lots of greetings and blessings on Facebook. No one mentioned my age but me. Wasn't everybody nice?
I have heard it said that for the younger generation, our ceiling is their floor. I have even had that said to me by one or two who thought they were giving me a compliment. Actually, they were. But my response was and will continue to be, "Well then, you better get your climbing boots on, 'cause I'M NOT DONE YET!"
Thanks for checking back every now and then friends. I hope you enjoy the variety. And all you seniors out there....you ain't done yet either.