Women…where to begin? We are a work in progress, aren’t we? Or maybe it’s just my generation?
Tag: <span>Lifestyle</span>
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Almost forty years ago, in my first 30 minutes in the US, while taking the bus from the airport to the hotel, I met the most overweight person I have ever seen in my life.
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I am an average older woman who wished all her life to be heard, as well as seen. To be understood and not judged by attractiveness. To have men look into my eyes (and soul) and not stare at my cleavage.
What? Be grateful for negative things? Seriously? What’s the point of this nonsense?
No, I’m serious.
The bright yellow turmeric drink “Golden Milk” is said to have healing effects and if you have a pain disease like me, or other health issues, you often find yourself desperately looking for magical potions or a miracle cure nobody else before you has thought of.
His heart is weakened, he is waiting for a flight home, and I read his blog because I love his writing style. We will never meet, perhaps don’t even read each other’s blogs for too long, yet he had the power to make me change my ways.
Like so many of us, I love to plan meals, and I love to cook. Spoiling my husband and friends is part of who I am. Cooking is my way out after a long workday; I leave my frustrations on the cutting board when I chop off heads of carrots and other willing victims.
It all started out with an old soup dish that I found at a resale shop, it reminded me of the soup bowls we used when I was a child. They were so much smaller than the ones I have in my kitchen cabinet now. Come to think of it, everything was smaller back then and so were we.
Would you prefer to receive a unicycle, bicycle, tricycle or motorcycle?
I had to look up what a unicycle is, so that’s not it. I prefer a bicycle and love to go for a bike ride with the dog(s). I finally bought a leash extension that is attached to the frame of the bike, and it works like a charm. No more flying over the handle. Yeah Baby!
“Health, it’s one of God’s greatest gift, but we take it for granted; yet it hangs on a thread as fine as a spider’s web and the tiniest thing can make it snap, leaving the strongest of us helpless in an instant.”
― Jennifer Worth, Shadows of the Workhouse