Suddenly 62…

 

Suddenly 62. My teeth have grayed. My skin wrinkled. My muscle churned to fat.  

My regret, unfortunately it isn’t that I exercised more, it’s that I no longer write.

On the road again...

Today January 12, 2019.  A number of people were posting look how I aged.  The included their first profile pic and their last on facebook.

So, I will include a pic from my first blog post and my last blog post.  Although the newest pic will be from my other site...RVWife.com

I switched from blogger to wordpress because I had high hopes of writing about my experiences as a full-timer RVer, workamper and volunteer and had heard or read that wordpress was a friendlier format for professionals.

I’m not sure if it was the format of wordpress or my own personal expectations...but I am not having as much fun blogging.  I believe I am 47 or 48.

And this is me at 59 3/4

When I look at the two pictures the first thing I think is...it’s a good thing I can write, because I am not very good at taking photos. 

Before and After

A year ago, we left Waukee IA

with everything we owned
packed in the back of our truck...














 

And now we are packing up our truck once again and leaving Rockaway Beach, OR...It seems we really didn't need everything ... and we donated or sold things along our way...













And of course we also purchased new things...like a 24' camper.

Who's Minutes?

When my son was four, I told him. “Five more minutes.”

“Who’s minutes?” He asked.

As I stood at the kitchen sink, with warm suds dripping from my fingertips, I explained. “Everyone’s minutes are the same. They all have 60 seconds…”

“No,” he muttered. “They are not the same.”

“Time is the same. Everyone has twenty-four hours in a day--”

His head shook his little tow head. “No. They’re not. When you say, ‘five minutes before bed.’ Those are my minutes and they’re fast. And when you say, ‘I’ll be there in five minutes.’ Those are your slow minutes. Who’s minutes mine or yours’s?”

When I look back, I am beginning to think he was right. The only way I could have possible managed to raise two children, work full-time, maintain a house, attend numerous activities and write was I had slow minutes. 

Now I’m 56 and retired,  people say, "what do you do all day?"

"I walk the dog, do up a few dishes, sometimes write."

They look at me like my son did at four.

I shake my head. They don't understand. Now, I have fast minutes and before I get anything done, the day's over.