Another five star review. Thank you!

It was filled with humorous experiences and also sad ones. I enjoyed reading it, learning that as my grandmother said, “Getting old is hard work!”

Nothing comes easy, and especially not aging. Thank you to this reader/reviewer who got my book!

Click on look inside on http://www.amazon.com RAGING AGAINST AGING.  For the 60 + crowd.  Think:  HOLIDAY GIFT!

 

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YOU CAN LOOK INSIDE! Read the TABLE OF CONTENTS and preview the beginning of chapter 1. See for yourself! Give the gift of laughter and buy as holiday gifts!

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5.0 out of 5 stars (8)

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I AM WRITING ABOUT THINGS I FORGOT

Does this title make any sense?  I mean, I forget things all the time.  I am absent minded maybe even a little senile. But think about it.  I am writing about all the things I forgot.  So, how is it that I don’t forget  the things I forgot and I remember to write about them?

Can anyone explain this phenomenon?

images

I Don’t Know Why and I Cannot Explain

How can an educated and bright woman go to a rainforest and be surprised that it was raining in the rain forest?  How can a bright and educated woman with experience go to a desert environment and be shocked that there are no shade trees?

And who might that bright and educated, experienced woman be?

!imgres imagesOH!   THAT WOULD BE ME!!!!!!!!

FORGETFUL? EARLY ALTZHEIMER’S? or JUST PLAIN GETTING OLD?

anxious 1 imagesYesterday evening, I warmed up the delicious flounder fillets I had prepared in the morning. I turned the oven on and when the fish was hot, I served dinner. SIX HOURS LATER, I was getting ready for bed and as I was turning out the lights in the kitchen, heat seemed to be emanating from the oven. I checked it – and it was still on the 325 degrees. I could have made a whole Thanksgiving feast in the hours I had, accidentally, left the oven on.

I fret when I do things like that because I have a reputation of being meticulous, responsible, reliable, OCD, anal, and a perfectionist.
“Am I getting senile?” I remembered to ask myself and my husband.

When I woke up this morning, I patted myself on the back for having gotten out to make it to my exercise class on time. I remembered to take my combination lock that I have not used for the past month. (Winter was fine until five weeks ago and after one storm and another and another and another, we stopped going to work out). I looked at the lock in my hand and could not remember the numbers. I tried two different combinations and got it my third try!
“So, I am not senile after all,” I laughed and turned to my husband.

“You should have written the numbers down,” he chided me. Then I remembered that I had, indeed, written down the combination in my cell phone. Only I had forgotten that I had ever done that.

Which counts more: what I remembered or what I forgot?