Sunday, January 9, 2011

Bookmarks

I have about 50 websites on my bookmarks list, and of those 50 I use three of them on a regular basis. Sometimes I'll get in a cyber cleaning mood and delete a few, but mostly they remain there, in the spirit of, "I'd better not throw that out, I might need it someday," the same spirit that keeps the drawers and tables in my house stuffed and stacked with envelopes and random scraps of paper.
Really, am I going to need the address of a discount shoes website where I saved the page describing a pair of winter boots I was going to buy for my son two years ago? He doesn't even wear that size anymore, for crying out loud.
And do I really need to relocate six websites offering moneysaving tips for tightwads? Finding a tip I didn't already know about would be as likely as finding a diamond ring in my morning bowl of Special K.
I've also got the addresses of several bloggers, most of them smartass women like me. But the only bloggers I follow with any regularity are my friends Cori and Kathy and authors Rona Maynard and Elizabeth Berg, and I could find their sites with my eyes closed.
As for the sites listing Crock Pot recipes, vegetarian recipes, cheap recipes and cheap vegetarian Crock Pot recipes, I can find all of those and more in seconds courtesy of Google.
And those 10-odd Phil Collins listings... I think I'll hang onto those for awhile. It's like a scrapbook I like to leaf through on occasion. Although I'm too old and too mature to keep a scrapbook on my favorite singer. A list of websites is much more dignified. Don't say a word, please. Let me hang onto my illusions.
What I need is a bookmark list for my brain. I'd love to have a file list of favorite memories that I could roll out at any time. Not the big ones; those have a permanent spot in my heart and mind. It's the little, ordinary days I want to recapture. Like the summer day Ron and I took the kids to Little Presque Isle, when the sun was hot and the water was bathtub warm. Ron and I spent the day jumping in the waves with the kids and lying on our blanket under the sun, watching them play.
So many small special moments get lost in the shuffle of daily life. We swear we'll remember, but the moments get crowded out by flat tires, doctor bills and grocery store runs.
I want to remember every single night I read bedtime stories to Jess, then Jess and Dan, then Jess, Dan and Melissa. I want to bookmark every one of those nights. And the bathtimes, trips to the park, all the Friday nights we piled blankets and pillows on the floor and hunkered down to watch "Dinosaurs" and "Family Matters."
It's ironic that with a single click we can save the location of a website on the mating habits of tse tse flies, but there's no way to save the moments we treasures as they happened and would love to treasure again... if only we could find them.

Sunday, January 2, 2011

These old bones

So the other day I read an inspiring Associated Press story about a woman in her early 40s who was so morbidly obese her doctor told her she could expect a major coronary event at any moment. If that wasn't enough, she smoked like a chimney and used alcohol as a stress reliever.
Here's the inspiring part: this woman made a vow to change, not only for herself, but for her husband and children. There followed an amazing self-renovation. Now in her late 60s, this woman is lean and mean. She's run marathons and is a champion swimmer.
The story continued with the tale of a 98-year-old who still runs every day. The gist, as I saw it, was that age doesn't have to be a barrier to physical fitness. Talk about inspiring!
Next came some quotes from a personal trainer, who explained that, although there is no age limit on maintaining fitness, as one grows older one has to make certain accommodations, accept the inevitable limitations of an older body. Beginning at age 50...
Wait a minute.
Age 50?
The age I will be in four months and 14 days?
I swear I felt my brain twitch when I realized I was reading an article about growing older and keeping fit that pertained to me.
I sat up straighter and had an indignant mental conversation with the author of the story and that oh so wise personal trainer. I informed them that I get more fresh air and exercise now than I have in years. I've lost weight, gained muscle and stamina, and I can't remember when I've felt more at home in my own body. So there!
I judiciously left out of the conversation the fact that when I stand up after sitting for too long my spine is as stiff and creaky as a length of frozen rope. The fact that my knee joints sound like Rice Krispies when I stretch was also edited from the conversation.
I understand that I am growing older, chronologically speaking. But I refuse to stock up on Ben Gay and Geritol (do they even still make Geritol) anytime soon. If you're only as young as you feel, then I feel I am not ready for low-impact this and high fiber that. As long as my favorite jeans fit and I can keep up with my high-energy dog, I'm still the same me I've always been.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get up and stretch. I've been sitting a little too long.