The realities of age 59:
I am now less than 365 days from 60. entering 59 in the treadmill means that it reports my heart rate as elevated a couple of beats lower than it did the day before. And of course, I have my grey hair frosting the top of my brown.
Why is it that the grey seems to hang on tightly and it is the brown stuff that seems to fall out?
Wait, that is not completely true. My hair is half-way down my back and some of the silver has certainly made it that far. There are long grey hairs on my brush along with the brown. It just seems that all the brown that falls out is being replaced with grey.
Should not complain, I think my mother was completely gray by the time she was 40. But then, I am not sure what hair color she really had since artificial color was her friend as far back as I can remember. I am still convinced that dyeing ones hair can not be good for the roots. Can’t convince any of my off-spring that their natural hair color is fine, but I keep on trying. On the other hand, my DH has gone grey for years and he has just left it alone.
Means that we can both claim the off-spring as the source of our grey locks. Never mind that he is following a familial pattern or that the onset of grey is more likely to result from age and only related to the younger crew because we happened to be older when they were born. You get the idea.
Anyway, please remind me of all of this next year if I am not so positive on turning 60.
Meanwhile, I can do puzzles and knit just like someone in their 20s, or 80s. I can continue to avoid housework and take a hike (weather permitting) whenever I want. The Faery Ring has both sleeves and only one inch to go on the hood. Then it will be only the front band and closures to go.