Privilege Blog

Is Turning 70 A Big Deal, Or, Saturday Morning at 8:44am

As I’ve said, in two months, give or take a day, I’ll turn 70. I feel like I’ve been the same age since I turned 35, maybe 40, and now, surprisingly, whole new age!

Not to sound preposterous, but I find myself wanting a new conceptual model of self in addition to new shoes. Who am I really, now that my knuckles are wider than my fingers? Gray hair, wrinkles, jowls, various tendon issues, somehow all of that felt like it was happening to the self in the mirror, not the one here, on the sofa. I think now the little spark of consciousness behind my eyes is having to adjust. Feels a bit fidgety, TBH.

I don’t feel sad, at least not yet. Were I to give voice to my reaction, which, obviously, yes, it’s a great big, “Huh.” I’m reading Honest Aging, by Rosemary Leipzig, as Kristin recommended, and thinking. Thanks, Kristin.

So much thinking.

But before we launch into a full post, or several, I wanted to hear from you. As many have pointed out, readers’ thoughtful (funny, iconoclastic) comments are one of this old blog’s best features, and it would make no sense to write at any length without your input. So.

  • Did/does 70 feel significant? Or just another decade passing by?
  • Did/will you take stock? If so, of what?
  • Have you made any proactive changes as a result of thinking about it all? Or only in response to events and changes as they occurred – health, life, and so on?

I imagine you can think of questions of your own. Feel free to ask them. Or answer those unasked, for that matter.

Have an excellent weekend. Happy birthday to anyone who needs it.

Follow Up On Feet, Or, Saturday Morning at 8:24am

Let’s follow up on feet. Elissa, who I happen to know is my age and also runs marathons, recommended “barefoot” shoes here. (Related, I wonder when I will simply “nope out” on societal changes and trends but I guess I’m game, for now.)  Let’s be clear however: Grande Dames would not wear these in public. Perhaps not in their own houses. For gardening, perhaps. Artsy Cousins have embraced this sort of footwear since they were 12, even when a trip to Turkey to get them handmade was required. Sturdy Gals, well, when we get old we become even bigger fans

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Two Movies To Set Things Right, At Least For A While, Or, Saturday Morning at 10:01 am

Serendipitously, today I am recommending two movies. Both can be found on streaming platforms, both leave you joyous but wistful, both somehow involve people I know. Sound like ingredients for a good watch? Where In The Hell, Laramie Dennis’s (a younger friend of mine) debut film, is streaming on Amazon. A road trip, essentially, in which one of the two protagonists is looking for her girlfriend, who seems to have slipped away from their Northern California motel in the night, and the other – a young Asian man – is trying to make it to Canada for an audition. All

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My Pollinator Garden 10 Years Later, Or, Saturday Morning at 9:47am

Back in 2016 I planted this small side yard, I had a vision; it would be neat and small but butterflies would come and so they did. Last week a Swallowtail, a Monarch, a Mourning Cloak, a Red Admiral all annoyed the Gulf Fritillaries that live here along with various Skippers. Delighted me. I have no photos as none stayed put in time to raise my phone. Neat and small, though, not so much. Today. I have surrendered architecture to details. Also bugs, plus the occasional hummingbird. Details. Vervain, a weed my Plant It app tells me is wild hedge

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