Why Write a Blog???

I’ve never written a blog before but I find myself under a certain … moral obligation to give it a try. The reason will become clear if you read on.

I like birthday parties: little kids’(balloons, knee-high wrapping paper, cake and ice cream), ‘older’ people’s (good champagne, hors d’oeuvres but skip the cake), family members’ (dining room table lined with all age groups, too many presents, no room for cake), my friends’ (wine, good food, funny stories, did I mention wine?). I even enjoy my OWN birthday festivities. But not this year!

March 2, 2010 was the day I became officially OLD. Family and friends were under strict instructions not to plan anything that resembled a celebration. It was my intention to handle the situation in a fashion befitting my years: pull the covers over my head and ignore it completely.

I don’t FEEL old! My body may be drooping in a few places but it hasn’t start to fall apart in any serious way; I have lots of energy and don’t want to give up my day job; I don’t need a hearing aid, cane or special underwear. I try to dress well and give a modest nod to fashion. (I must admit, however, that my Mother gave up on my fashion sense when I was just a teenager and came home with a newly purchased navy blue skirt. According to her, navy blue was AN OLD LADY’S colour and she would never wear it; she staunchly eschewed it until she passed on at the age of 86.)

Nor do I get excited about any of the so-called advantages of ‘the Golden Years’. Seniors’ tickets on the TTC just slow you down as you have to line up at the ticket booth. I don’t 'do' Florida and refuse to eat supper before 7:30. As for movies, sweet young things assumed I was eligible for senior subsidization the minute my hair turned grey.

So when the dreaded day arrived, my nearest and dearest treated me like a geriatric, female Peter Pan. Everyone was marvelously obliging and gentle: spring flowers from colleagues, a lovely surprise supper with tasteful and tasty attentiveness from close friends, a small family gathering at which I made the main event my giving presents to Toby who would turn two in a couple of days. But then it was MY turn to open my cards. My wily daughter had not defied maternal edicts; she had not bought me a present. Ever inventive and ready to give me a challenge I wouldn’t be able to resist, she had set up a blog page for me.

So this is my blog #1. If my strength, eyesight and lucidity continue into my waning years I may even write a second entry.