Rushing to finish my Thanksgiving cooking list, Pumpkin Pie, Frosted Apple Pie Slices, Sweet-potato Puff, and a bowl of Romaine Crunchy Salad, I skidded out of control.
I hit the first curve when Shep reported on Fox News, “Just in! ALL Romaine lettuce – RECALLED!”
Yikes! Hubby ran to Wal-Mart to return two packages of Romaine bought for Thanksgiving’s Romaine Crunchy Salad. I ran to our favorite neighborhood grocer for gourmet lettuce to replace Romaine.
Then, as I rushed to whip the sweet potatoes with my KitchenAid, I flipped the speed to high with my left hand and I pulled the lock lever to lock the mixing bowl with my right hand. Unfortunately, I had not seated the bowl into the locking groove at the bottom of the mixer stand.
My sweet potatoes went flying. The bowl flipped and wedged against its base at a 45-degree angle. The motor froze.
I panicked, of course. Fortunately hubby saw this as an opportunity to employ his engineering skills and ran to the garage for tools.
I know the article held a matter of importance to the person who clipped it because it’s laminated with plastic for preservation. Reading it is like seeing a rainbow – a gleaming light – at the end of the tunnel.
Chicago columnist Frank Charles Laubach, who lived to be 85, offers his perspective on growing old, with a smile.
With tongue in cheek, he substantiates the premise that —at any age — our well-being is merely a state of mind.
Life Begins at 80 by Frank Laubach
I have good news for you. The first 80 years are the hardest. The second 80 are a succession of birthday parties.
Once you reach 80, everyone wants to carry your baggage and help you up the steps. If you forget your name or anybody’s name, or an appointment, or your own telephone number, or promise to be three places at the same time, or can’t remember how many grandchildren you have, you need only explain that you are 80.
Being 80 is a lot better than being 70. At 70, people are mad at you for everything. At 80, you have a perfect excuse, no matter what you do. If you act foolishly, it’s your second childhood. Everybody is looking for symptoms of softening of the brain.
Being 70 is no fun at all. At that age, they expect you to retire to a house in Florida and complain about your arthritis and you ask everybody to stop mumbling because you can’t understand them. (Actually, your hearing is about 50 percent gone.)
If you survive until you are 80, everybody is surprised you are still alive. They treat you with respect just for having lived so long. Actually, they seem surprised you can walk and talk sensibly.
So please, folks, try to make it to 80. It’s the best time of life. People forgive you for anything. If you ask me, life begins at 80. —Frank Laubach
I attended a senior’s luncheon in Branson at a community center where luncheons always begin with announcements, the Pledge of Allegiance, prayer, and a joke.
Joke of the Day –
Two duffers were playing golf when an 80-year-old woman streaked across the greens in her birthday suit.
Golfer 1: Did you see that woman? Golfer 2: Yup! Golfer 1: What was she wearing? Golfer 2: Don’t know. Whatever it was, it needs ironing!
After lunch, Darrell and I played a round of golf. A few geese streaked across the greens in their birthday suits
There were goldfish in the pond and the sun was shining. Another lovely day in the Ozarks!
Laugh Out Loud
Trust you have friends to laugh-out-loud with, where you double over in laughter at least once a week. So … I was at a Chamber of Commerce meeting with a speaker from Google, speaking on Web options for small business enterprises.
As all fine public speakers, she punctuated her remarks with a joke. Q: What did the fish say when he ran into a wall? A: Dam.