Half A Century

I'm a quinquagenarian.  Yep, as of Friday, February 25th, as a matter of fact.  I saw it coming, but there was nothing I could do to avoid it--short of kicking the proverbial bucket.   That seemed a little drastic.  And melodramatic.  Even for me.

Forty is the old age of youth; fifty is the youth of old age.--French proverb

 Huh.  Here I thought I was smack in the middle of middle age.  What do I know?  Well, quite a bit, as it turns out.  Here are some of the things I've learn in 50 years:

I know the difference between having a cold and having the flu.
I've learned that life is like a box of chocolates, but you have to be discreet in spitting out the nuts.
I know that while what doesn't kill me may make me stronger, it still pisses me off.
I've learned that it doesn't matter if your friends are bipedal or quadripedal, it hurts the same when you lose them.
I've learned that love is worth the risk of loss.
I have traveled the universe and beyond in the pages of books.  And look forward to more!
I know that as soon as I run the dishwasher, someone will put dirty dishes in the sink.
Truth is stranger--and funnier--than fiction.
I've learned not to "should" all over myself.
I know that you'll never find a silver lining if your eyes are closed.
I've learned that God has a sense of humor.

There are still quite a few things that I don't understand, yet.  Like:

Why do you click the "Start" button to turn off the computer?
Is there anybody who actually eats an Oreo without twisting it apart?
Why are there birds that can't fly?
After God banished Cain, where did Cain find his wife?
Why do some people think it's funny when someone else falls down?
How do the words "I'm sorry" and "I forgive you" carry so much healing?
Why does eating chocolate release endorphins (feel-good hormones), but not veggies or fruit?

Well, here's to 50 more years!  I intend to keep learning as long as God leaves me on this mortal plane.

Valentine's Day in Cyberspace

Matchmaker, Matchmaker,

Make me a match,

Find me a find,

catch me a catch

Matchmaker, Matchmaker

Look through your book,

And make me a perfect match

I've never had that "perfect match."  Not that I'm complaining.  Much.  I often wonder what it would be like to be in love.  I've loved, but never been in love.  With Valentine's Day, my thoughts turn to that topic once again.
 
Matchmaking as a profession has been around for millenia.  The role of a matchmaker varies from culture to culture and from era to era.  The past few years has found a resurgence in the demand for the services of personal matchmakers here in America.  But the internet has had the biggest impact on the search for Mr. or Ms. Right.
 
There are sites that charge for their services like Zoosk, eHarmony.com and Match.com.  There are sites that offer their services for free--on a limited basis--such as okcupid.com and matchmaker.com.  Some of the sites that charge are very expensive, while others are more reasonable.  The limitations on the "free" part of their services also varies.  Some charge you just to sign up, while others don't charge until you want to make contact with someone.  And most sites offer discounts for longer term subscriptions.
 
There are sites for "mature" singles (what does that mean, exactly?) like maturesinglesonly.com and sites for Christians like christianmingle.com.  There are sites that cater specifically to blacks, gays, Asians, Jews, interracial and international groups, just to name a few.
 
At this time of year, all these sites are advertising all over the web.  I don't particularly pay much attention to each ad (I see a lot of them on Facebook).  But a week or so ago, an ad caught my eye:
 

 
I was immediately intrigued!  And that's not the only one!  There's singlecatlovers.com, PURRsonals.com and catloverdating.com--just to name a few.  Well, that got me thinking.  I know, I know, a dangerous thing.  What if, I thought, there are dating sites for writers and bibliophiles?
 
Well, a couple of Google searches later and I found bookwormsdating.singlescrowd.com and alikewise.com, for two.  For writers?  Writerspassions.com.  Bipolar?  Nolongerlonely.com.  Caregivers?
 
Caregivers?  Umm, no.  I found a few articles about dating when you're a caregiver, but no websites.  And, yeah, as one person said, "...just the mention of caring for an elderly parent will send a potential date running."
 
But, mostly, just like for ethnicity/racial preferences, whatever you're into, there's a site for you.  Running, skiiing, philately, woodworking, marijuana (yep)--it's all there.
 
After all that searching the web, I realized that I would rather talk to a person about my dating preferences.  There are still places that do that!  Great Expectations is a national matchmaking agency.  And there is even a Matchmaking Institute where you can become a licensed, certified matchmaker!  Of course, all this costs money.  A lot of money in most cases.
 
So, I guess I'll just stick with blind dates and the chance meeting in a bookstore.  Hey, it could happen!

Breakfast of Champions

All happiness depends on a leisurely breakfast. --John Gunther

I heartily agree!  I do not like to rush through breakfast.  I like to take my time preparing it, eating it and lingering afterward.  In fact, I don't like to rush at all in the morning.  I don't always get it that way, but that's my preference.

My morning usually starts about 8:00 a.m.  After my ablutions, I get dressed.  Always.  Even when I'm sick.  Granted, if I'm running a fever or throwing up, I may just throw on sweatpants and a T-shirt.  But I absolutely have to have clean underwear.  After dressing, if there's time, I get on the computer.  A little before 9:30 a.m., I head downstairs.  After greeting Tabitha, I get my mother up and moving and head to the kitchen.

I get things started by filling my electric kettle.  I love my electric kettle.  I don't know how I managed before I had one and I will never be without one again.
 

In order to make tea, I need tea bags.  Or loose tea, but most mornings it's tea bags for my mother and instant coffee for me.  And, according to Tabitha, I'm not able to find the tea bags or coffee on my own.  She's very helpful.

Somehow, I manage to get the food prepared by myself.  Cream of Wheat, French toast or pancakes.  That's my basic repertoire of breakfast foods.  On rare occasions, I have muffins--either bought or home made.  Before I set the table, I clean it with Clorox or Lysol wipes.  The cats hate the smell of the disinfectant and it keeps them off the table--at least until after we eat.  Emmy harbors the notion that some day she'll get her own place setting--with plenty of meat on it!

Once the food is off the table--and the cleaning smell is gone--Khai decides it's time for some affection.  At this point, I'm usually savoring my coffee.  He figures I only need one hand to hold my coffee cup so I should use the other hand to pet him.

Now, I usually clean the sink after each meal.  Tabitha sticks close by as I work.

She's very good at making sure I clean the sink thorougly after the dishes are done.

And she insists on checking my work.

Hmmm, what's that tiny speck in there?

We go through a lot of dish soap and disinfectant wipes!

When that's done--on the days I don't have errands to run--I make a cup of tea for myself and we head to the living room to watch one of our recorded shows.  Old shows.

Before Gunsmoke, it was a half hour
show called Marshall Dillon.

The original!



I'd never heard of Chester Morris,
but these are good movies.

  

 During these shows I usually sort through and pack up boxes.  I have to keep the de-cluttering going!