#1033903 added June 23, 2022 at 7:52pm Restrictions: None
Another Year Older
Bard's Hall #3 Recently, I celebrated yet another birthday. If I should ever lose my faculties, or forget how to count, or grow muddled at the concept of time and aging, I feel certain my children will note the passing years for me. They keep a running tally.
Perhaps it's a test meant to measure my awareness. Is Mother with it ? Does she know she's approaching that hill? Has she begun to slip? Do they ogle me with bated breath as I announce my new age? Am I supposed to fiddle with the numbers and shave a few off? Really, would I outright lie? I've learned there's a sobriety test police officers use and it's known as the FIT, Field Impairment Test. My kids could repurpose that FIT to be Faculty Impairment Test. I like the memories Facebook has saved for me. If my recollections dim, FB has my back. It's all there in black and white, posts I shared and FB has guarded. Proof exists that I once could write coherently. Here is one such memory. June 1st, 2010. Okay, I admit it... today I become 51. When you think about the cake (and cookies) I've eaten, all the jokes I've heard and still mostly remember, the great people I've met, the songs I can still boogie to and the very real fact that I still have my own teeth and hair, well... life is grand! Thank you for the birthday wishes. If I should ever myself floundering I could repeat this post at each new birthday only altering the number. Would/could I do that? Naw, where's the spontaneity in that? If I'm alive to relish that good fortune I must honour my advancing age with new words. Every second of another journey 'round the sun is well worth it. I read this online jab and thought to myself isn't that the point, to acknowledge and appreciate being older? This whole birthday thing is getting old. Can there ever be too many birthdays? Am I getting wiser with age? I dunno. I believe I'm still learning. I will always be an apprentice. To prove I have much to absorb I admit to this. Much of my life I dwelled within the standard Imperial world of measurements. One day Canada switched to all things metric and I adjusted. No longer did I record car trip in miles. A new temperature system existed. I purchased both milk and car fuel by the litre. This has become my new reality one which my kids recognize as normal. Two weekends ago, shivering in my trailer at my campsite, I reluctantly cued the furnace to expel heat. I commanded the thermostat to reach a temperature of 28. It cranked to life and began circulating air...cool air. I had noticed in the recent past that my bedroom at the rear of the trailer never seemed to grow warm. I shrugged and piled more blankets on my bed. Hubby sat down to troubleshoot and discovered that the digital thermostat had the capacity to be set to much higher numbers. He set it to a shocking 68, and soon I felt real warmth. We both realized then and there my mistake. "You do know this trailer is American, right?" It was an eureka moment. I'd been thinking in the metric sense, so 28 degrees should've been very balmy. Twenty-eight Celsius is not the equivalent of sixty-eight degrees Fahrenheit. At 28 Fahrenheit I'd set our trailer to be below freezing!! Thank goodness I've lived long enough to learn this. Happy Birthday to me.
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