This is my EDLM journal entry.
I awakened at 7:00 and had my usual coffee and quiet reading/prayer time.
My husband had a birthday card and gift for me. I’m 61 years old today.
I completed minor chores, met my lifelong best friend for lunch who now lives in Westfield. We spent time in the afternoon together, as well.
After she left, my husband met his brother-in-law to go fishing, so I had the house to myself, a rarity nowadays since he works from home.
I popped in DVDs I recently bought to rewatch the 1980s series, “Moonlighting.” I love nostalgia, so I purchased seasons one and two for that purpose only. I loved seeing “David Addison” and “Maddie Hayes” spar and talk over one another at the speed of light again. Plus, the clothing, hair and makeup were fun to revisit. It was also enjoyable to see details from the past that are longer common or relevant. Remember the actress Allyce Beasley, “Agnes DiPesto,” (what a great name for this character!) the receptionist at Blue Moon Detective Agency who answered every call with a rhyming soliloquy? It’s great to see Bruce Willis’s curly, smug smile, hear his renditions of old songs, see the gorgeous Cybill Shepherd perform a caricature of the beauty queen role she had lived in real life, a self-deprecating, tongue-in-cheek woman coming back into the public eye with a vengeance.
I made myself dinner and followed that with not one but two caramel apples.
My husband came home, we chatted over the events and conversations of the day, and then I watched Survivor. I’ve seen every season, some more than once, and I’m here for season 45. I’m the most sissified, noncompetitive person I know, so why I particularly like the episodes where people are dragged around like rag dolls or hit obstacles in mazes like pinballs of old is curious to me. Maybe I have a sadistic streak??
Finally, this is the FB post I published after taking a break recently:
What I gave up in my 60th year: the bathroom scale. The last time I stepped on one at home was one year ago, the day I turned 60. When I went to the doc this year, I complied but looked away. I thought I would hop on one year later to see what would actually happen in a year without monitoring closely, but I decided not to.
Weighing daily is nearly a lifelong practice to break. Growing up in the 70s and 80s put a lot of pressure on females. I’ll bet I’ve been weighing myself since I was 13 years old. In middle school, the doctor told my mom that I needed to cut back on the milkshakes and french fries. That one comment added to what I was already feeling and seeing (beginning with Malibu Barbie) and started a whole *thing* (fill in your own word) that many of us understand. Did I gain weight this year? I think so. My face has also dropped more, my eyebrows have vacated my face more, my bones hurt more, etc. It is what it is. Will I ever peek at the scale again? Maybe. I don’t plan to. I will always be interested, however, in walking, running and maintaining good health. I’m just less interested in numbers: paces, years, calories and that number on the scale.
And that is what I did and thought as I marked my 61st year.
One Hoosier Life 