An Inconvenient Truth

There are signs of old age, and until now I have managed to ignore them.

Oh, sure, I have "crow's feet" the size of crows with Moon Boots on. When my bones creak, I think someone is talking to me. And I spend all my extra money on hair dye instead of perfume.
I simply try to avoid looking in the mirror as much as possible and pretend I still have that carefree hippy-heart and a nineteen inch waist.

Yet, sometimes life throws you a giant curve. The lights finally turn on. Your corrugated eyelids suddenly fly open and you realize it is time to face the truth.

My wake up call came in the mail yesterday.
Yes. I said the mail. And I know what you're thinking- AARP.
No. I've gotten that junk mail propaganda for several years now- and it doesn't scare me.

Here is what arrived. Addressed to my oldest daughter:

There was once upon a time that I could have actually met the qualifications on their size charts. There were days (at age 18 or 19) when it wasn't beyond my efforts to become as fit as those young models. (With a boob job and a leg extension, of course.)
But thumbing through the magazine on my way back up to the house, I was shocked and disgusted that apparently there has been some unnatural breeding between Stretch Armstrong and Moodonna.

(Please excuse my weird sense of humor. It's part of the Old Age Package).

Anyway-
the whole thing that really got to me was the particular mail that was addressed to ME.
Here's what I got:

This recent alarm was just too much reality. I thought of running the mail lady down and begging her to take it back- to put it in her jolly little Jeep and give it to someone down the road. To some decrepit old couple who have nothing better to do than to lie in bed and read seed catalogs and dream of fresh sweet corn and ripe tomatoes and the quality of their compost pile!
No, not me! Please not me! Nothing says mundane, unattractive, undesirable and "loser" more than the word "GURNEY".
"Gurney, Gurney, Gurney..." All day long that word haunted me. Slapped me in the face. Punched me in the gut. Caused me to look in the mirror and see clearly for the first time. I'm old! My daughter gets lingerie magazines and I get seed catalogs!!! Life isn't fair! No. Not one bit.

What is truly sad is ... later that evening, my husband and I curled up in our favorite chairs and reviewed the 2011 Spring Seed line at Gurney's.

And it got us excited.

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"Do not resent growing old. Many are denied the privilege."
-- Author Unknown