I do not know quite what happened or when , but my hubby and I now qualify for seniors' discounts at some venues. This creates a quandary; in order to save money, but not face, we have to admit to our age. HMMMM..... We definitely do not consider ourselves to be old. In this day and age ,when people as a whole are living longer and healthier lives why are 'young seniors', those in their fifties, like moi, considered 'old'?? It's so true that age is just a perception! "Maturity" is very objective/subjective, and I object! Whew, a few years have skittered by since I composed this biography block. Those "fifties" are in the rear view mirror and they are distant, fond memories. Oh, I do not plan to stop writing any time soon.
I don't care for dark British/Dutch humor. Dislike Monty Python as well. Give me a bittersweet French or Japanese movie or a sad Portuguese song. I'm more introspective.
You were very fortunate. I never really fell into anyone's arms.
I need to reassess my needs. My 'romantic' efforts in Thailand had limited success.
A washing machine is an accurate descriptive for how your body is pummeled with each wave as you're drawn down and then pushed up again. I've been a dozen times and if my shoulder wasn't like it is I would gladly go again. I'm like you very familiar with canoes and kayaks although my preference is a kayak on lakes. I used to take mine out with a small cooler bag with lunch inside and water. My other bag was a dry bag, it held my camera in addition to whatever book I was reading. If my brain was functioning I had sunscreen, depended on my coffee intake for sure. We must have been fish at one point in our life.
I agree with you about the aurora borealis, I don't dare blink. They're just so glorious in color and the way the air feels as you stand there awe struck. I'm equally glad these calories don't count, I feel like I've eaten enough for two people maybe three.
I've wondered the same thing when I read about all the discoveries documented and brought back by ship. Paper that didn't crumble or mold from all the temperature variances.
I'm not as comfortable storing things in the cloud myself, I have external hard drives that I transfer data too and then disconnect from my computer so it is hack proof. Not that I really have data anyone would want but it is personal to me.
But then I think about the close living quarters on a ship how did anyone have room for storage to bring back? Darwin was indeed lucky on the HMS Beagle.
I am hanging my head and muttering to myself. I missed the train yesterday. I'll admit I may have dawdled. After all of that adrenalin thrumming in my veins during my Sydney sojourn, I crashed. When I stumbled into the station, The Ghan was gone. I, of course, did pause to ponder my predicament. I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I could not actually catch a train. The only running I do now is sometimes running on empty. The ol' knees refuse to expel that type of undignified, unnecessary waste of energy. I opted to plead with a purveyor of rental vehicles and in the local parlance, I hired a Jeep. Yep, I opted to partake of a mad desert run across country to rejoin the train tour. My jostling, dusty journey afforded me to really feel the grittiness of the sand. No, the red sands of Coober Pedy are not particularly tasty. I'm not sure if my eyes appear to be reddened because of my lack of sleep, or that infernal, pervasive dust. I arrived to get down and dirty mining for opals. I just rushed the dirty part. What's another layer? May I stress the heat of this desolate place? Is this desert community really a sauna? I must say I thoroughly enjoyed the tour of the dugouts excavated into the sandstone hills. Residing underground is a novel approach to avoiding that extreme heat. Caves are indeed cool . Does this give new meaning to the Aussie term down under ? The warning signs topside gave me pause. Apparently, there are abandoned mine shafts everywhere and watch your step seems to be a local greeting. The signs advise me not to walk backwards, as if. I was also admonished not to run, but as I already explained my cranky knees watch my back. If I had been warned not to trip, I could not have complied. The knees believe that is acceptable and most likely probable. I can understand the allure of the opal. Many of us are attracted to the shiny, the pretty, the hidden. The local opal miners are no different than the gold prospectors. They live for the thrill of the hunt, the surprise pay dirt, the almighty mother lode. Just one more search. Just explore one more vein. Just dig a little more. That elusive big strike is here somewhere waiting to be discovered. I admire the tenacity of the Coobers. They epitomize resilience. They see far more than a barren landscape. By the end of the day, no one had succumbed to the dangers/temptations of an open hole. Imagine the rescue fuss if this calamity had befallen one of us clueless tourists? Would several someones shout, "One in the hole!" Is there appropriate slang such as "he/she is hole'd up", or is the correct vernacular "he/she's shafted"? I've heard of 'walkabout'. Is there a "fallabout"? Would there be rampant confusion if say a woman named Opal slipped into one of those former mine openings and it would need to be announced that "Opal's in the shaft"? Who would ken that to be a bad thing? Now I'm curious. How many of the local females are named Opal? I ask this of woman named June. "Were you born in that month?" I must be dehydrated. My mind is wandering without me again.
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