ACCESSING MY INNER TEEN PART 2, BOY BANDS: FROM “IN HER SIXTIES”

Posted on April 18, 2024 by thathobbitlady

The following is a post from my website Chrissy…In Her Sixties, which I am currently working on shutting down. The website you are now looking at, That Hobbit Lady, has been with me since November 2004 (nearly 20 years) and contains over 500 posts. In Her Sixties only goes back to 2017, with less than 40 posts. So, you see…in the interest of consolidating, I could either send 500+ posts from That Hobbit Lady to In Her Sixties, or 30+ posts from In Her Sixties to That Hobbit Lady. In addition to the math of that first option not making much sense, it also happens that the term “In Her Sixties” will only to apply to me for a few more years. But I will be a Hobbit Lady forever. So: no-brainer.

~~~~~~~

October 19, 2017

Last time I talked about how knowing that God is in control connects me to who I was as a teenager, but I also mentioned another major aspect of my teenage self that is 180 degrees removed from my spiritual side. And here it is: boys. More specifically: Boy Bands.

First, a little background: as a teenager, I was 100% what was then called a “teenybopper,” but is nowadays known as a “Fan Girl.” I had my favorite actors, singers and “Boy Bands,” decades before the term was ever coined. Bobby Sherman really got the ball rolling, followed closely by the Monkees. It would be difficult to count how many celebrity crushes I’ve had through the decades. I tend to get obsessed for a certain period of time, then move on to something (or someone) else. Whereas my teens were dominated by Bobby Sherman, the Monkees, the Cowsills and John Denver, as an adult, my tastes have been quite different. (Mel Gibson, Hugh Jackman, Harrison Ford). More mature, you might say.

Sort of. Sometimes. Because, despite everything, somehow I always come back to the Boy Band.

Not in the same way, though. As a teenybopper, I dreamed of actually KNOWING my stars, somehow becoming involved with them, having a personal relationship. Now that I’m much older and happily married, I’m content to simply relax and enjoy the music, the personas, and everything I perceive they stand for.

And what do they stand for? Youth. Freedom. Rebellion against the status quo. Individuality. Creativity. I could go on, but you get the idea.

About five years ago, (when I’m well into my fifties), I accidentally ran into Fall Out Boy. I was on You Tube, listening to some other bands (I don’t even remember who), and suggestions on the right side of the screen led me from one band to another, and thus I discovered Fallout Boy. YEARS after everyone else. That’s me. Always late to the party. A Late Bloomer. But being a Late Bloomer has its advantages, because by the time I get there, there’s so much existing material, so may videos and songs, so many CD’s! And I don’t have to worry about whether or not this band is going to “make it,” because they already have, and there’s a ton of stuff for me to enjoy about them.

But it all started here:

This was the first video I saw of Fall Out Boy. From the early images of a bunch of boys jumping around with guitars, I was hooked. Then you move fully into this fanciful tale that involves a very unpretentious girl who dresses like I would (if I were much younger and much thinner), and I knew I had arrived in a world that was so much different than the world I live in.

Not because the love interest has antlers, but because these boys are musicians, and they live in a world where music and creativity are their lifestream, and they can dress however they want, and don’t have “real jobs” that require them waking up with an alarm clock. I know this is the exception and not the norm, and in so many ways it’s not the “real world,” but therein lies the attraction. It’s a pleasant fantasy about what it means to be young and talented and creative and full of hope for the future.

You see, at some point in life, you realize that the dreams you had where you were younger about what you planned to do with your life are no longer valid because you’re no longer young, and there’s not as much “future” ahead of you as there once was, those same opportunities are no longer as available. It’s a depressing realization when it first happens, but after a while you adjust to your new reality, and you’re willing to live the life that is set before you, which may not include being a famous musician, or best-selling author, or award-winning movie director. But you’re okay with that, because now you have a husband who loves you, and a cozy little house, a job that’s not awful, and a relative degree of good healthy and security. So, what more could you ask for?

Oh yeah, you could ask to every now and then dip your toes in the optimism of Youth by listening to music and watching videos by young people who remind you of who you once were, or who at least approximate the type of person you always hoped you might be.

And the fact that you still feel a connection to that person you always hoped you might be (even though you now know you never will be) assures you that on a very deep level, that young, free, optimistic, creative person is STILL IN THERE, still at the very core of who you are and who, really, you always will be. And any day that you can connect to the core of who you really are, that’s a good day.

So that’s my Fall Out Boy story. And after that, I became quite enamored of Panic! At the Disco, and then OK GO. So much music, and so many muses! And now, something new. Again, I’m not sure exactly how, but I’ve discovered the band We the Kings.

And if you know me, it’s very easy to figure out why I’m so attracted to them. I mean, besides all that creative, optimistic, artistic stuff I’ve already discussed. In addition to their music, which is sort of early 2000’s pop-rock, take a good look at these guys and you’ll notice a lot of…HAIR.

I’m obsessed with guys with hair, the more hair the better. I think this began way back when I was about seven years old and the Beatles first came on to the scene. Of course, the Beatles were the original “mop tops,” they made it cool for guys to have long hair. Their hairstyles became one of their defining characteristics, what set them apart from all the traditional, acceptable, mainstream bands that came before them. Back in the 1960’s, if you were a girl who liked the Beatles, you were sending a clear message to society that the status quo was not for you. You were not interested in hooking up with the clean-cut captain of the football team, or dating some fraternity brother. You were a REBEL who saw yourself traveling a less traditional path.

It’s kind of amazing that I can trace this all the way back to the Beatles, when I was only seven years old. It’s also amazing that this was probably the one time in my life when I was NOT a Late Bloomer! When it came to the Beatles, and Boy Bands, and teenybopperism, I was a maverick, ahead of the curve!

If you’ve been alive long enough, you remember the first time the Beatles appeared on The Ed Sullivan Show. A historic moment, I certainly remember! Glued to the TV, I promised myself that before I died, I would see the Beatles in concert someday. (I never did.) But at that point, I’d seen the footage of crazed fan-girls screaming and swooning as the Beatles performed on stage. And I wanted to participate in that hysteria.

I remember my mother wondering “How can they even hear the music, with all that screaming going on?” But I think Mom was missing the point. It wasn’t about the music. At least not primarily about the music. It was about the BOYS, and the hair, and the chance to step outside the mundane and connect to something bigger than you, something that seemed to transcend reality, something that represented the freedom of the spirit, and creativity, and optimism, and hope that we too might someday find and date and marry a CUTE boy with LONG HAIR.

I don’t know if at the tender age of seven I actually experienced those particular thoughts and dreams, but I feel certain they were there, on some subconscious level, deep in my heart.

Now, here’s the irony in all this. My first husband actually was a musician, a drummer for a local heavy metal rock band, and at times his hair was more long than short. But music and hair did not assure the happy marriage I dreamed of. Now I’m married to Russ, who last wore his hair over his ears as a senior in high school, and whose interest in music stops at about that same time: the 1970’s. But I couldn’t imagine being more happily married.

Which makes me wonder about my childhood and teenage fascination with long-haired musicians. Might this be one of those cases of “Be careful what you wish for”?

Or might it be that I’ve had it right all along: that Boy Bands are the stuff of fantasy, and should remain so, far off in the distance, the inspiration for a dream that is never going to come true. Maybe the reason why they seem to be part of some alternate reality is because they ARE part of an alternate reality. They are the embodiment of youth, and art, and creativity. Picasso said: “Art is a life that makes us realize the truth.” In some way, the world they inhabit is a lie. But that lie makes us realize that at the heart of everything, we are always more than we seem to be.

So, in the end I’m thinking, maybe it’s okay to live with one foot planted firmly in reality, and wiggle the toes of the other foot in that magical world where cute boys in quick-paced musical romps play out the silly shenanigans that make you feel good, and young and alive, just enough to remind you that your Inner Teen is never dead. She’s only sleeping. But she’ll always gladly wake up to gaze at the long-haired boys and listen to their music.

Posted in Boys!, Groovy 60's, Music | Leave a comment

ACCESSING MY INNER TEEN PART 1, GOD IS IN CONTROL: FROM “IN HER SIXTIES”

Posted on April 17, 2024 by thathobbitlady

The following is a post from my website Chrissy…In Her Sixties, which I am currently working on shutting down. The website you are now looking at, That Hobbit Lady, has been with me since November 2004 (nearly 20 years) and contains over 500 posts. In Her Sixties only goes back to 2017, with less than 40 posts. So, you see…in the interest of consolidating, I could either send 500+ posts from That Hobbit Lady to In Her Sixties, or 30+ posts from In Her Sixties to That Hobbit Lady. In addition to the math of that first option not making much sense, it also happens that the term “In Her Sixties” will only to apply to me for a few more years. But I will be a Hobbit Lady forever. So: no-brainer.

~~~~~~~

October 15, 2017

Life sucks. Right? Stuff happens, and it’s not always good stuff. We all get bumped, bruised and jaded along the way. It’s part of getting older. It’s part of being alive. I’m no exception. Sometimes I look at who I am now, and it makes me sad that I’ve lost so much of the innocence and optimism I had when I was younger. Six decades is a long time, and during that time, I have to admit, I’ve changed. And not always for the better.

But even though I know I’ve lost so much along the way, at the same time I’m keenly aware that deep down, at my core, that optimistic teenager I once was has not been completely eradicated from my personality. She may not be as vital, healthy and strong as she once was, but at certain quiet moments, my gut tells me she’s still in there somewhere. Buried deep down. Not dead. Just sleeping.

There are actually two very distinct ways I know my Inner Teen hasn’t been completely suffocated, two aspects of my life that still allow me to occasionally glimpse and access that unscathed person I once was. But these two areas of my life are so completely different from each other, that I don’t feel it’s appropriate to deal with them both in one post. So I’ll talk about the first, and most important aspect first, and save dessert for another day.

So, you’ll notice on the right side of this blog, there’s an icon for “Spirit,” and I’ll make no bones about it: I’m a born-again Christian. I was raised Catholic, went to Mass every Sunday, but somehow always felt I wasn’t completely connected to God. I always wanted to be closer to God, but wasn’t really sure how to do that. Then, when I was 16 or 17, I had a spiritual awakening. God started “throwing Christians in my path,” and through a number of influences, I came to understand what was really meant by “Jesus is the Son of God,” and how that impacted me personally. I was looking for a path, for a personal relationship with God, and I found it. I had been floundering around, looking for the path that would get me going in the direction I wanted to go, and then, suddenly, I was on the Path.

Of course, since that time, I’ve always been a Christian, but I haven’t always been “on the Path.” Like anything else in life, there tend to be times when you do better, and times when you do not as well as you ought. But one thing I’ve always felt certain of, over all these many decades, is that God has not given up on me, He is always, always calling me back to Him. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been convinced of this.

These last several years, I’ve felt more connected to God than I had in the several preceding years. To some degree, I put this down to getting older and therefore more inclined to take a look at The Big Picture. And when you look at The Big Picture, the main feature in the picture is God, and the knowledge that though most of my earthly life is now behind me, Eternity looms ahead, and getting closer all the time. So, why not give more attention to where I’m going?

When I’m in communion with God, in prayer or Bible reading, that’s when I feel the troubles of the world fade away and fall off , that’s when I feel most connected to what is most REAL. Incidentally, I probably should have mentioned “worship” as another experience that connects me to God and what is most real, and years ago it did, but truth is, it’s been many years now since I’ve gone to church. Reference the “bumped, bruised, jaded and scathed” comments above, and all I’ll say right now is that’s a whole ’nother topic, for another day. But worship, true worship, is another good way to connect to God, if there aren’t too many other distractions standing in the way.

As a Christian, I know that deep down, when you tear off all these outer layers of stress and noise and commotion, the true nature of the Universe reveals itself as something GOOD, because God is at the center of it all, God is the source of it all, and God is good, and He is in control. I’ll say it again: God is in control!

Sometimes it may not appear that way, especially if you only pay attention to what can be seen on the surface, but if somehow you manage to get past the outer layer, past the superficial, and look intently at The Big Picture, it becomes so clear that there is not only a Design, but also a Designer.

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A sidebar, to make my point: a few days ago, our cat, Squee, had a problem with his right ear. Nothing serious, he was just holding it funny, sometimes shaking his head. We couldn’t see any dirt of buggies, but something was not quite right. He’s better now, but while it was happening, Russ and I made a decision to use a little OTC medicine, some pet “Ear Wash” we had left from the last time this happened. In fact, it may be because we used the Ear Wash that his ear got better. Or it may have gotten better on its own. That’s not the point. The point is that for several days, a couple of times a day, I would sneak up and grab him, and gently but firmly hold him, while Russ tried to get ten drops in his ear. All the while he’s shaking his head and struggling to get away. Like most cats, Squee is not a fan of “treatments.” And I’m sure all the while he was wondering, “What have I done wrong? Why are they TORTURING me??”

Obviously, we were not torturing him, not doing this to be mean to him. It was to HELP him. But from his cat-simple vantage point, he couldn’t understand that. I’m reminded of that verse from the Bible, Hebrews 12:11: “All discipline for the moment seems not to be joyful, but sorrowful; yet to those who have been trained by it, afterwards it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness.” We sometimes have human-simple responses to our difficulties, not seeing what God is trying to accomplish in us. We may not UNDERSTAND what’s happening, but that doesn’t negate the fact that God is in control.

I’m reminded also of a metaphor I heard once, long ago, in a sermon, back in the days when I went to church. The preacher described our lives as a tapestry. A beautiful tapestry. But right now, we are on the underside of the tapestry, where the threads and strings are all jumbled together looking like one big mess. When we die and go to Heaven, we’ll be looking down on the tapestry from above, seeing the beautiful design that was being created all along, but which we could never clearly see, until we got the opportunity to look at it from the right vantage point.

One more story, and this is where I really connect all this to my Inner Teen. Because it was indeed when I was a teen, probably 17 in earth years, yet only a year or so in spiritual years, when—and I still have a very intense memory of this—my high school class went on a field trip somewhere-or-other, I don’t remember where, but that doesn’t matter; what matters is that I remember sitting on the bus, in the very back, by myself, looking out the window at the world passing by, at the trees and grass, the sky and clouds, but also the buildings and roads, train tracks, whatever, and being overwhelmed by what a huge and beautiful world it was, and how blessed I was to be loved by the Creator and Sustainer of all this. It was just a bus ride, looking out the window at completely ordinary surroundings, and yet it was one of the most spiritual experiences of my life.

Even now, today, decades later, as jaded and cynical as I sometimes feel I’ve become, I still look back on that moment, and recall it vividly, and experience again the Joy felt by that girl who was me…and who still IS me, on some deep level. That’s my Inner Teen. She’s still in there. I can still connect to her sometimes. In fact, I can connect to her at any time, if I just slow down, take a deep breath, and look inside. All is not lost. Yes, the world sucks. But God doesn’t. And He is in control.

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JUST BECAUSE IT’S “FOOD” DOESN’T NECESSARILY MEAN YOU SHOULD EAT IT: FROM “IN HER SIXTIES”

Posted on April 16, 2024 by thathobbitlady

The following is a post from my website Chrissy…In Her Sixties, which I am currently working on shutting down. The website you are now looking at, That Hobbit Lady, has been with me since November 2004 (nearly 20 years) and contains over 500 posts. In Her Sixties only goes back to 2017, with less than 40 posts. So, you see…in the interest of consolidating, I could either send 500+ posts from That Hobbit Lady to In Her Sixties, or 30+ posts from In Her Sixties to That Hobbit Lady. In addition to the math of that first option not making much sense, it also happens that the term “In Her Sixties” will only to apply to me for a few more years. But I will be a Hobbit Lady forever. So: no-brainer.

~~~~~~~

October 13, 2017

Years ago, I could eat and drink almost anything. That’s not to say there weren’t consequences, but those consequences seemed to take place over a long period of time, so there was no immediate realization of “Oh, crap! I probably shouldn’t have eaten that.” By the time I realized I shouldn’t have eaten that, I’d already put on ten or twenty pounds. Too late now!

Then, more recently, it got to the point where I might eat something for dinner—or, more precisely, eat too much for dinner—and then, when I’d crawl into bed, my stomach was not so good, and in the middle of the night I’d wake up with heartburn, and have to take Tums, or something like that.

I learned a lot from those experiences, and stopped eating too much at night, especially too much of the wrong kinds of foods. In fact, lately, I’ve been pretty good about not really eating “the wrong kinds of foods” at any time. Every once in a while, I get off track, and there are consequences, so almost immediately, I get right back on track.

It’s good that consequences happen so swiftly now. It helps keep me honest. But every now and then “my eyes are bigger than my stomach,” and despite the fact that I should “know better,” I go off on a binge, suffer consequences, and swear never to do that again. Of course, I probably will, at some point in the future, but on the plus side, I’m feeling better and better lately about my ability to make good food choices. Most of the time.

I want to detail a recent experience that makes this point (the point that even though I know better, I still go off track). It’s flu season, and since Russ and I both work on campus and free flu shots are offered, we make a point of going together every year to get our flu shots. Yea, us! Doing the right thing, right?

But along with the right thing, this year we also added into the trip something that was not so right. Turns out the flu shots were being given in a building that also houses an all-you-can eat cafeteria. We’d been there before on a few occasions, when they had something called “Five Dollar Fridays”—all the food you can eat for five dollars! It’s been a few years since we’ve done that, and this wasn’t on a Friday, but we decided to do it anyway.

Bad choice.

First of all, who knew that those “Five Dollar Fridays” were such a good deal? I thought maybe the price would go up a couple of dollars, maybe $7 or $7.50, but no! We each paid over $9.00 for this “all you can eat”! Of course, that’s not a bad price for an “all you can eat,” but for lunch, we really didn’t have the time or the inclination to eat excessively. In fact, I’d say that as I get older, the inclination to stuff my face is growing significantly less pronounced.

But we paid our $20 + and entered the cafeteria and proceeded to collect our food and chow down. Now, here’s my main impression of the food the University is feeding its students: SALT. Really now! Is it entirely necessary for everything to be so freaking salty?? You know what they say: anyone can make any food taste good if they add enough butter, sugar or salt. But that’s actually not true, because there comes a time when too much is simply too much.

This is one of the things that makes me feel like I’m getting old. Sigh… Or maybe it’s just that, since I’ve been eating more natural “single ingredient” foods these last couple of years, I’m that much more sensitive to how horrible over-processed, over-salted foods can taste. I feel like those cooks aren’t even trying. And why should they? It’s just a bunch of college kids, and for the large part, Mommy and Daddy are paying for their meal tickets, and as long as they don’t have to cook it, I guess most of them are willing to eat just about anything.

Which is a horrible commentary on the state of our youth. But, I wouldn’t be surprised if most kids today, having eaten in school cafeterias all their lives, and overconsuming junk food, don’t think that super-salty food is perfectly natural.

Now, granted, there was a salad bar. That was not salty…but the salad dressing was! I guess I could have gone with oil and vinegar, and maybe next time I will. But I’m not really sure there will be a “next time.” I hope I’ve learned my lesson.

Of course, I know I haven’t. I’ll remember this experience for a while, but in a little while after that, I’ll be seduced by the thought of “all I can eat,” especially if it’s offered at the low low price of $5.00 — which has actually now gone up to $9.00, but hey! Still a good deal for “all you can eat.” But wait. Not really. Not if the food is rendered INEDIBLE by the addition of entirely too much SALT!!

As I become more selective about what I’m willing to eat, eating out becomes more and more of a challenge. I’ve developed some strategies for restaurant eating, but not all of them can be applied all the time. Still, I try to do the best I can, most of the time, and I try to learn from my experiences. But I don’t always.

Russ and I go out to eat every Friday night. Every other night we eat at home, where I can control the quality of the food. This Thursday binge at the cafeteria was an exception to our rule. Which makes me remember why we even HAVE rules in the first place. And no, it’s not so that they can be broken.

Okay, that’s enough whining for now. I just wanted to set this down in writing so maybe next time, I can be a little more discriminating about what I consider edible “food.”

Posted in Food & Drink, Health | Leave a comment

THE NEXT PUZZLES ARE THE FIRST AND SECOND: FROM “IN HER SIXTIES”

Posted on April 15, 2024 by thathobbitlady

The following is a post from my website Chrissy…In Her Sixties, which I am currently working on shutting down. The website you are now looking at, That Hobbit Lady, has been with me since November 2004 (nearly 20 years) and contains over 500 posts. In Her Sixties only goes back to 2017, with less than 40 posts. So, you see…in the interest of consolidating, I could either send 500+ posts from That Hobbit Lady to In Her Sixties, or 30+ posts from In Her Sixties to That Hobbit Lady. In addition to the math of that first option not making much sense, it also happens that the term “In Her Sixties” will only to apply to me for a few more years. But I will be a Hobbit Lady forever. So: no-brainer.

~~~~~~~

October 8, 2017

In my first post about puzzles, I featured the last puzzle we’d done. In this second post, I’m featuring the first and second puzzles we did. I know it’s a little confusing, but after this, it’s everything that happens in the middle, so it won’t really matter all that much.

As I mentioned last time, I caught the “Puzzle Bug” when I went to Florida to visit my parents and helped them do a puzzle. If I remember correctly, I came back home and told Russ we ought to do jigsaw puzzles, we might enjoy it. Since we make a trip to Wal-Mart nearly every weekend, on the next trip, we went into the toy department and found this collection of ten puzzles in one box. The price was probably something like $15, so we figured we weren getting more “bang for our buck” this way, since this huge collection left us with lots of options.

I don’t remember all the puzzles in this collection, and it has since gone to Goodwill. I can tell you we only did this one puzzle, and one other. We certainly did not complete ALL ten puzzles. At this time, we didn’t know anything about puzzles. We did not yet know the good names in puzzle production (Ravensburger, Buffalo), and just about all we knew was that 300 pieces would be way too easy and go way too fast, and 1500 pieces would be far too frustrating. So we settled on 500, or 750 or 1000 pieces.

The puzzle we eventually settled on, the one pictured above with the wagon and flowers, was one of those sizes. I don’t remember which. And I don’t remember how easy or difficult it was to complete. In fact, I don’t remember much about doing this puzzle except that at the end of this first puzzle-doing experience, we knew we were committed to doing more.

So we did one more from this collection, and here it is:

Two adorable kittens! I’m sure it was my choice, since I am somewhat of a “Cat Lady,” loving almost all images I see of adorable cats and kittens. The problem with this puzzle, though, is that there are basically only four colors: gray, white, pink and green. Later on we’ll learn that a wide variety in colors is just as important as shape and size and interlockability of pieces. But for right now, I was happy to see these two darlings come to life before my eyes.

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MOM’S COSTUME JEWELRY: FROM “IN HER SIXTIES”

Posted on April 14, 2024 by thathobbitlady

The following is a post from my website Chrissy…In Her Sixties, which I am currently working on shutting down. The website you are now looking at, That Hobbit Lady, has been with me since November 2004 (nearly 20 years) and contains over 500 posts. In Her Sixties only goes back to 2017, with less than 40 posts. So, you see…in the interest of consolidating, I could either send 500+ posts from That Hobbit Lady to In Her Sixties, or 30+ posts from In Her Sixties to That Hobbit Lady. In addition to the math of that first option not making much sense, it also happens that the term “In Her Sixties” will only to apply to me for a few more years. But I will be a Hobbit Lady forever. So: no-brainer.

~~~~~~~

October 5, 2017

I’m not a “Jewelry Person,” but like most women of her generation, my mother was. I am happy with a couple pairs of earring, my wedding and engagement ring. My mother had all that, and more.

Throughout her lifetime, Mom had also acquired many items of significant monetary value, but before she died, while splitting up her collection between her daughters and granddaughters, I knew it would be a waste for me to end up with any of her “good pieces,” because I would probably never wear them. Now, I did take my paternal grandmother’s wedding ring, if only for the historical and sentimental value, but other than that, what most interested me was Mom’s large collection of costume jewelry pins and brooches.

In particular, Mom was a big fan of Sarah Coventry, and I believe most of her brooches came from this company, which had its heyday in the 1960’s. I have clear memories of her wearing many of these pins on dresses and sweaters, from the time I was a little girl till just before she died. So, talk about sentimental value! Each of these pins brings back warm memories of my childhood, and my Mom.

I think of these pins not only as jewelry, but also as “art.” Therefore, as you can see, I made a decision to arrange them in a shadowbox, with a black velvet background, now hanging on a wall in our house. This way, they are not stuffed in and suffocating in a jewelry box….which I would rarely open. This way, I have the opportunity every day to look at this lovely collection of nostalgic pins and brooches, many of them 50 or more years old, so, technically, would they be “antiques”? At the very least, they are “Vintage.”

There was one pin I remembered and admired more than all the rest, the Aurora Borealis, and by some twist of fate, my sister ended up with that one, rather than me! Oh, sad day! I was jealous. But then, I had an idea. E-bay. It only took a little looking, and I found multiple offerings, and settled on this one, for all of $12.00. As you can see, I’ve pinned it to my purse. Because, as I mentioned earlier, I’m not really a big jewelry person. I can’t be bothered spending a whole lot of time fussing around with accessories and ornamentations on a daily basis. But I do love to dress up my purses. Usually it’s with silly buttons of witty sayings, or pictures of cartoon characters, but now I’ve moved up in the world by adorning my simply purse with a Vintage Aurora Borealis.

Now that I have my own VAB, I no longer begrudge my sister having the original. In fact, I rather prefer walking around with this duplicate. A pin on a purse can be a precarious situation, as it might be damaged, stolen, or lost. In fact, one time in the Fort Lauderdale Airport, it came loose and fell to the floor! Luckily I heard it clunk, retrieved and reattached it. But the experience brought home to me how absolutely devastated I would have been if this had been Mom’s original pin from the 1960’s, which she kept in good repair for 50 years, and after only a few weeks, I had somehow managed to lose it. No, much better, I decided, to walk around with a copy. Then, Heaven forbid, should I ever lose or damage it, I’ll be pissed at myself no doubt, but it won’t be devastating. Because I know for about $10-$15, I can always go back to Ebay and get another.

When Mom distributed her jewelry, I’m sure she was happy to see these items, which she had treasured all her life, going to good homes. I hope she knows how much I appreciate the gift, and how much I enjoy my collection of nostalgic costume jewelry, remembering the fine lady who all her life made them shine just as brightly as any of her “good pieces.”

(Update 2024: The shadowbox arrangement still hangs on the wall in my dining room to every day remind me of Mom.)

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MY TRUTH ABOUT BOOZE, OR…WHINING ABOUT WINE: FROM “IN HER SIXTIES”

Posted on April 13, 2024 by thathobbitlady

The following is a post from my website Chrissy…In Her Sixties, which I am currently working on shutting down. The website you are now looking at, That Hobbit Lady, has been with me since November 2004 (nearly 20 years) and contains over 500 posts. In Her Sixties only goes back to 2017, with less than 40 posts. So, you see…in the interest of consolidating, I could either send 500+ posts from That Hobbit Lady to In Her Sixties, or 30+ posts from In Her Sixties to That Hobbit Lady. In addition to the math of that first option not making much sense, it also happens that the term “In Her Sixties” will only to apply to me for a few more years. But I will be a Hobbit Lady forever. So: no-brainer.

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October 2, 2017

I guess everybody has a story about themselves and alcohol. This is mine. Where I’ve been, and where I am. It’s not a terribly interesting story, but it’s my story, and important at this point in my life.

I’ve always enjoyed having a drink now and then, but never drank to excess. Both of my parents had a problem with alcohol, to the point that they had to give it up completely, so I’ve always been keenly aware of the possibility that I could too easily end up in the same situation. I enjoyed drinking far too much to let it get to that point. I always figured it was better to always be able to have a little now and then, than to have too much and have to give it up completely. So I have always been careful to not allow drinking to become an “issue” in my life.

Mostly I’ve enjoyed beer and wine, because they are cheaper than hard liquor, and generally provide a better buzz. For me, enjoying a drink was always something to do at the end of a long day, usually on a weekend, in my own home, while cooking dinner and watching TV. In fact, one of my favorite things in the world is to have a glass of wine or beer and get a pleasant buzz while working in the kitchen.

However, I think those days are behind me now. I can’t say exactly when it started, but possibly around the time I went through menopause I began to notice that having a drink no longer gave me that same pleasant buzz. To feel buzzed at all, I would have to drink more than usual, and that would lead much more to feeling sick and dizzy, rather than “pleasantly buzzed.” I’ve always been fortunate to not experience hangovers, but these last several years, I sometimes don’t feel so good waking up the morning after have a drink the night before. I guess my tolerance is not what it once was. I wouldn’t exactly call it a hangover, but I just don’t feel good and healthy. And I hate that.

These last several years too, I’ve become more interested in doing everything I can to lose weight and be healthy. It’s paid off too, with a weight loss of up to 45 pounds (depending on when you start keeping track), and those fabulous numbers I just got at the doctor’s office a couple of weeks ago. And in fact, I just feel overall better now than I used to. I’m making an effort, and it’s paying off.

Drinking does not really fit into my new healthy lifestyle. As for beer, it’s wheat-based, and I do so much better when I avoid wheat and gluten. As for wine, I’ve long suspected that sulfites don’t really agree with me. So I’ve cut way back on drinking, at times going months and months without having any alcohol at all. Then, there’ll be some sort of celebration, or we go to a nice restaurant, and I’ll have a drink. And again, I’m always disappointed that I don’t get the same results I did when I was younger.

This blog is about aging, and that’s my best guess about why my experience with alcohol has changed. It’s sort of sad, I feel like something fun and positive has gone out of my life, but at the same time, I know this is really for the best. Many of the health experts I trust insist that red wine in moderation can actually be good for you, and every now and then I’ll become convinced and go out and buy a bottle of wine, but inevitably I find that I don’t really enjoy it that much. Drinking the prescribed five ounces is not enough to give me the buzz that is my reason for drinking in the first place. To my way of thinking, if drinking doesn’t give me a buzz, why bother? There are plenty of other good health practices I can be doing that are a lot cheaper, and contain a lot less sugar.

A few weeks ago, for our Anniversary, Russ and I went out to a nice restaurant and I had a glass of Riesling that was VERY good. Yeah, it’s not a red wine, like the experts suggest, but it was so tasty I said, “The heck with it!” and decided to buy a bottle of Riesling for the house. I found one that was possibly even tastier, very sweet, and enjoyed a couple of glasses, one on Friday night, one on Saturday, but again, getting less of a buzz than simply feeling tired, so again I said “The heck with this!” and drained the rest of the bottle down the sink this morning.

I’m not saying I’m never going to drink again. But I think I’ve reached the point where I have to admit that drinking simply doesn’t give me the same payoff it used to. As we age, there are lots of things we can’t do as well as we used to. For guys who played softball in their teens and twenties, they might want to think twice before getting out on the field in the fifties and sixties. And those women who used to look so cute in their little mini skirts, well, guess what? Let’s not even go there.

There are a lot of things I can’t do as well as I used to, and I guess drinking is one of them. It’s a curse. And it’s a blessing. It’s an “Oh, good!” and an “Oh, well….” It’s an opportunity for me to look for new ways to brighten up and enliven the time I spend in the kitchen. I have some ideas. But that’s a topic of another post.

(Update 2024: Over the past several years since I wrote this post, I have been drinking less and less. And over the past several months, I have pretty much given it up for good. I don’t know that “all or nothing at all” is really a mindset I feel comfortable with (it’s too prone to failure…) but for the time being, this is what I’m doing, and I’m feeling much better.)

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THE FIRST PUZZLE IS THE LAST PUZZLE: FROM “IN HER SIXTIES”

Posted on April 12, 2024 by thathobbitlady

The following is a post from my website Chrissy…In Her Sixties, which I am currently working on shutting down. The website you are now looking at, That Hobbit Lady, has been with me since November 2004 (nearly 20 years) and contains over 500 posts. In Her Sixties only goes back to 2017, with less than 40 posts. So, you see…in the interest of consolidating, I could either send 500+ posts from That Hobbit Lady to In Her Sixties, or 30+ posts from In Her Sixties to That Hobbit Lady. In addition to the math of that first option not making much sense, it also happens that the term “In Her Sixties” will only to apply to me for a few more years. But I will be a Hobbit Lady forever. So: no-brainer.

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September 27, 2017

You may find the title of this post…puzzling. If so…I mean it to be! This is my way of starting a new feature, but first, it needs a word of explanation. After you get the explanation, you will no longer be puzzled.

I’ve always enjoyed doing jigsaw puzzles, but two years ago when I went to visit my parents in Florida, I caught the Puzzle Bug. My parents would always have a jigsaw puzzle going, and it was fun sitting down with Dad to work on the jigsaw puzzle, listening to classical music. So when I got back home, I suggested to Russ that we do a jigsaw puzzle, and before you knew it, Russ had caught the Puzzle Bug too.

In the past two years, we’ve probably done 15-20 puzzles. This is the one we just finished up last night:

This puzzle is actually one I borrowed from Dad during my last visit. Mom and Dad have always been big fans of Jane Wooster Scott. Me…well, this kind of artwork is okay, but it’s not my favorite. And Ceaco puzzles are okay, but not as good as Buffalo or Ravensburger.

Every time we finish a puzzle, I take a picture of it, so I’ll periodically post a picture, and a word or two about it. In time I’ll be posting Buffalo and Ravensburger puzzles, and stories about our cat Squee jumping up on to the table and…well, you can imagine.

Squee jumping on the table is probably the most exciting story I’ll have to tell about our puzzle-doing. And that’s the way it should be. Because doing puzzle is not about excitement, it’s about sitting quietly and feeling relaxed. It’s about good music, and good conversation. It’s good for your brain, and it’s good for your general well-being.

This puzzle pictured above is the first one I’m posting on this blog, but it’s the last puzzle we’ve done. I think the next puzzle I post will be the first puzzle we did. Stay tuned…

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A TOAST TO MY GOOD HEALTH: FROM “CHRISSY IN HER SIXTIES”

Posted on April 11, 2024 by thathobbitlady

The following is a post from my website Chrissy…In Her Sixties, which I am currently working on shutting down. The website you are now looking at, That Hobbit Lady, has been with me since November 2004 (nearly 20 years) and contains over 500 posts. In Her Sixties only goes back to 2017, with less than 40 posts. So, you see…in the interest of consolidating, I could either send 500+ posts from That Hobbit Lady to In Her Sixties, or 30+ posts from In Her Sixties to That Hobbit Lady. In addition to the math of that first option not making much sense, it also happens that the term “In Her Sixties” will only to apply to me for a few more years. But I will be a Hobbit Lady forever. So: no-brainer.

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September 25, 2017

If I had to choose just one word to express what my wish is for the rest of my life, that word would no doubt be HEALTH. Obviously, I wish for physical health, because, well…who doesn’t? But I also hope that all the other aspects of my life will be “healthy.” Healthy relationships, healthy living environments, spiritual health. And of course along with actually being healthy, I want to look healthy, and feel healthy. No matter how you slice it, health is a commendable goal in almost every area of life.

But let’s get back to this matter of physical health. Physical health is one of those things you take for granted…until you lose it. When you’re young, you tend to be relatively healthy, and don’t think about health so much. But as you age, certain systems start to show wear and tear, and your physical health slowly deteriorates. At this stage in my life, I have several issues, and thankfully, by the grace of God, they are all relatively small concerns. I’ll probably spend a lot of time in this blog discussing all these little health issues and outlining my strategies for dealing with them, but right now, I’m just going to touch on a couple, because today I had an excellent report at the doctor’s office, and that’s something to celebrate! A great way to usher in my 6th decade!

First of all you should know that most of my life I’ve struggled with my weight. At my highest, I was just over 200 pounds, which is a lot for just about any woman, but especially one like me, who measures in at only 5’1” or 5’2” tall. I’m happy to report, though, that through careful attention to my diet, over the past year or so, I’ve brought that weight down to the mid 150’s! On the scale yesterday morning at home I was 155.6, my lowest adult weight since my first child was born. Quite an accomplishment, don’t you think? Today at the doctor’s office, I weighed in at 158.9 (after lunch, and wearing more clothes than I usually wear while weighing myself at home.) The last time I was at the doctor’s office about a month or so ago, I was 161, so even in the last month I’ve made some progress. Yea, me!

The other amazing number I had at the doctor’s office this afternoon was a blood pressure of 120/68. You see, blood pressure is something I’ve struggled with for the last year or so. My highest reading in September 2016 was 160/90. That was an anomaly, with my “normal” high being more in the 130’s over 80’s. At one point the doctor wanted to put me on meds, and I actually tried one, and it made me feel like crap, so he prescribed another, which came with a warning that it could cause a heart attack, so I said, “Thanks but no thanks, I’ll take care of this myself!” And I pretty much have.

I monitor my blood pressure at home at least twice a week, more often if I’m getting high readings, and employ a number of strategies that have helped me get my numbers down. Every once in a while those numbers creep up again, and I have to renew my commitment to my strategies, but so far I’ve had pretty good success in keeping my numbers in a fairly reasonable range. Which is quite an accomplishment when you consider how high blood pressure runs in my family. My mom had it, and my three siblings have it, and two of them take meds. But so far I’ve been able to manage this myself, so my reading today of 120/68 was just about the best thing to come out of this doctor’s appointment.

I keep using that word “strategies,” and eventually I’ll talk about all my strategies for health in every area of my life, but as I’ve said, today I’m just celebrating!

Because guess what? I’ve got even more good numbers! This was the yearly visit where they do a basic blood panel, and when the doctor came in with the results, I believe the word he used was “outstanding.” Everything was normal, except for the good cholesterol, which was abnormally good, and the triglycerides, which were way better than normal. I told the doc, “That doesn’t happen by accident. I’ve been working on it.” And he said, “I can tell.”

Again, eventually I’ll talk here about how I “work on it,” how I do what I can to lose weight and feel good and stay healthy. For today, though, it was enough to get that confirmation that all the hard work I’ve been putting in is ACTUALLY WORKING.

And one more thing before I go. I hope all of this doesn’t sound like I’m bragging. That’s not my intention. But my intention is to say to anyone who might be reading these words: I’m living proof that it works when you work it.

I know that some people can do everything right, and still, some horrible illness may befall them. It may turn out that down the road, that may happen to me. I don’t know. All I know at this moment is that if a horrible illness befalls me, it WON’T be because I LET it happen. I’m making the effort to do the right thing, and by the grace of God, it’s paid off today with numbers I can be proud of, and enjoy, and celebrate!

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TIDYING UP: FROM “CHRISSY IN HER SIXTIES”

Posted on April 10, 2024 by thathobbitlady

The following is a post from my website Chrissy…In Her Sixties, which I am currently working on shutting down. The website you are now looking at, That Hobbit Lady, has been with me since November 2004 (nearly 20 years) and contains over 500 posts. In Her Sixties only goes back to 2017, with less than 40 posts. So, you see…in the interest of consolidating, I could either send 500+ posts from That Hobbit Lady to In Her Sixties, or 30+ posts from In Her Sixties to That Hobbit Lady. In addition to the math of that first option not making much sense, it also happens that the term “In Her Sixties” will only to apply to me for a few more years. But I will be a Hobbit Lady forever. So: no-brainer.

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September 24, 2017

It’s been my lifelong pursuit to always find ways to IMPROVE, whether it’s personal, spiritual, my house, or my creative projects. I strongly feel a need to always be moving in the direction of making everything better and more manageable. That’s why the idea of “tidying” appeals to me so much.

Of course I’ve always been a fan of “tidying,” though until I read Marie Kondo’s book The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up, I knew it by other names: de-junking, de-cluttering, downsizing, embracing Minimalism. Not that I am a Minimalist, not by a long shot! But it seems most of my adult life has been a journey towards greater clarity and simplification in both my physical world and mental mindset.

The process of tidying begins by first identifying those items that have use and meaning and spark joy, then eliminating those that have no (or less) use and meaning and joy. So, stuff is always going OUT, but at the same time, stuff may also be coming IN. Life is a constant process of stuff going out and coming in, and hopefully, at least if you are mindful about it, the stuff that goes out is stuff that NEEDS to go out, and the stuff that comes in is stuff that adds value to your life.

So by doing this, and by being mindful about it, you constantly have the opportunity to improve. And you might even say you are “sculpting” your life, by removing chunks which don’t contribute to the overall design you seek, and also by adding very particular globs here and there to bring greater clarity and definition to the overall design you seek.

If you are wise, you will seek a design that is simple, yet beautiful. That’s what I’m working on. I’ve removed many things that aren’t working, and I’m looking forward to removing even more. At the same time, how much stuff am I buying all the time? Probably too much. At least, before I purchase something, I need to ask myself, “Is this going to improve my life, and fit in with the overall design I am seeking? Will it bring joy?”

When Mom died, Terry and I went through her “stuff” and some of it was valuable and sentimental, but boy, did she have a lot of clothes! Now, that was important to her, the same way office supplies are to me (but, come to think of it, Mom liked her office supplies too…) But that’s okay. It’s okay to have stuff you like. But at the same time, it made me realize how much of a burden it can be for those who have “clean up after you” when you die, if you have a bunch of crap. Not that Mom’s stuff was “crap,” far from it! She actually had some very classy, very nice clothes, but most of it didn’t fit me, or wasn’t my style, but still, I ended up with two nice pairs of sandals, and a couple of tops that I wear on a constant basis, so I hope Mom is looking down and enjoying that I’m still putting these things to good use.

But getting back to my topic of “tidying,” the whole experience of looking at all the stuff Mom left behind made me realize thatI don’t want to leave an exceptional amount of stuff when I die. In particular, I don’t want to leave anything that will “bore, embarrass or burden the next generation.” (Reference Don Aslett, how this whole de-junking idea came into my life, decades ago.)

I also have this sense, more and more lately, that my lifelong idea of saving things for “the future” is becoming less important than it used to be. In many ways, the future is NOW. NOW is the time I need to be looking at and living in.

Case in point: The cookie press. I remember this cookie press from when I was a kid, it seems like it’s been in the family forever, and to be sure, it was an important item at one time in the past, full of many happy memories. But now that I’m pretty much gluten-free, and since I’m not really a big fan of cooking and baking in the first place, let’s be honest: it’s highly unlikely I’d ever use it again. So I packed it up in a lovely little wicker basket and passed it on to my niece Gabriela, who is twelve, and has many years of baking cookies ahead of her. Hopefully she will have the chance to make new happy memories with that old cookie press.

Now let’s talk about books. First of all, if you can get the info on the internet, you don’t need it on your shelf. Remember the old and moldy days when everyone had 26 volumes of encyclopedias on their bookshelf? Thank goodness those days are over! I’ve recently gone through my bookshelves and eliminated probably dozens of reference books that were extremely useful…once upon a time, back in the 1990’s, before the internet. Now, they are just so many pieces of paper taking up valuable real estate in my house. So…out they go!

Russ and I have been emptying the bookshelves, but there’s still this whole ‘nother category in our house: Binders. I am a BIG fan of storing things in binders. I have binders for everything from “Cat” to stories I wrote in high school. I need to look into getting as much information as possible on to discs, flash drives or a portable drive, so it doesn’t have to take up so much valuable real estate on the shelves. But before I do that, I really need to clean out all those binders, and the file cabinets, remembering that not everything is sacred forever.

How about photographs? My daughter Mary subscribes to the thinking that all photographs should be digitized and put on flash drives. I agree. But if you look at my collection of photos, you’d realize scanning all these hundreds upon hundreds (literally, hundreds) of photos could end up being a part-time job for the better part of a year! I contend it might be a good idea to go through all the photos and collect The Best of the Best and put them together in a single album (and also make a digital copy of that album.) Also, it’s probably true that many, many of those photos should just be eliminated. But all this is a project that comes AFTER I deal with some of the bigger items. (Update 2024: I DID actually eventually take on the project of scanning hundreds and hundreds of family photos, keeping only a handful of the most precious in binders, and though it was a monumental task, in the longrun I’m certain it was well worth the effort!)

I’ve never really been a “clothes hound,” yet when I recently did my Marie Kondo tidying up, I discovered that I had close to 50 skirts! Honestly. ( will admit to being a “skirt hound,” who almost never wears pants.) Even after applying Kondo’s test of “Does this spark joy?” I still came out with slightly over 40 skirts. But now that I’ve looked at each one, and asked that all-important question about Joy, I feel so much more mindful about what I put on each morning. Same thing with the tops. And folding the tops the KonMarie way, so that all are clearly visible when I open the drawer, has made me feel like I have so many more tops than I did before.

Another “big” area I need to work on is the kitchen. I know it’s going to be a monster project, so I keep putting it off, though I have made some tiny inroads along the way. For instance, my spices used to be all over the place—some on a shelf here, others in a cabinet there, and still others tucked away in a basket, so I never really knew what I had. But I now have all the spices neatly lined up on two spice racks in (mostly) beautiful glass bottles. Improvement!

I also need to tackle the bathrooms, with all those health and beauty products. I admit, I tend to fall prey to the snake oil salesman, always willing to buy some new thing that promises to cure a problem or make something better. To my credit, I buy these things because I am indeed trying to make improvements in my life. I think I just need to be a little more discerning before I press the “Purchase Now” button. Also, I need to USE the products I have, before I get more products.

A real problem area for me is the front room/guest room, since that room tends to function as the “junk drawer” of the house. When I want to clear the living room or bedroom, I bring the clutter into the front room so I can deal with it later. And sometimes later never comes. I have a lot of books and notebooks and papers that don’t really have a place to live, so they just sort of sit on the bed in piles. It’s pathetic. I need to find/make a place for this stuff, or get rid of it!

The garage? Ugh. Not even going to talk about it right now.

For a while I was so intrigued by the idea of the “tiny house,” until I realized there’s no particular reason to squeeze into a super small space (unless you want to be a traveling gypsy, which I don’t.) But you can cut down on your possessions so that there is more SPACE in your house, and more AIR circulating. And less clutter, and less dust. You can live a “Tiny House” life in a normal sized house! After watching countless Tiny House TV shows, I finally realized I don’t need a smaller house, I simply need LESS STUFF.

This is all a long, complicated procedure, and I’m not going to get it all done in one weekend, or even in one month, and it may take even longer than a year. But at least I have started. And that makes me feel better, and makes me feel more in control, in a world that has gone out of control.

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EPIPHANY #2, MILK AND HONEY: FROM “CHRISSY IN HER SIXTIES”

Posted on April 9, 2024 by thathobbitlady

Originally posted at In Her Sixties, September 22, 2017.

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My last Epiphany was about ice cubes in my smoothie, which I described as if it was some giant, cosmic revelation that nobody had ever thought of before, and this time I’m going to wax poetic about something else that should be equally obvious. But I just discovered this, so it’s a BIG DEAL to me.

So, we’ve established that I like almond milk, which I’ve been drinking in my smoothies for several years now, and we’ve also established that this is a Good Thing for me, since almond milk is packed full of calcium and I have osteopenia. Which only lead me to ask the question…are there other ways I could be getting the calcium benefit of almond milk? On occasion I’ll add it to my gluten-free Cherrios, but why have I never thought of drinking it straight up?

Well, I finally thought about it, and had a taste…and it’s not too bad! In fact, after a few glasses, it went from “not to bad,” to “Hey! I really like this stuff!” (Tried the same with cashew milk, but I’ve decided to stick to smoothies and cereal for that particular nut milk.)

So! Cold almond milk! 450 grams of calcium in one shot! Yum! But a few nights ago, a light bulb lit up over my head, and I decided to heat the milk before I drank it. Wonder what that might taste like? And guess what? Delicious! As a pre-bedtime calm-you-down and help-you-sleep tonic, with a spoonful of honey, what could be better?

And for me it’s even better, because this concoction of “milk and honey” brings back memories of my childhood. When I was growing up, my family was typical middle-class, with stay-at-home mom and a dad who worked his butt off to provide for his family. Consequently, I don’t have a ton of domestic memories of my dad, but one thing I do remember is his affinity for a warm glass of milk with honey before bedtime. Actually, Dad didn’t drink it so much as he would prepare it for us kids, and now as I think of it, it was probably because that’s what HE was given when HE was a kid.

So, this is not so much an Epiphany as a Re-Discovery for me at this time. Let’s not quibble about semantics! Anything that takes you back to a happy childhood memory is always a Good Thing.

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