Rode hard, put up wet.
I just turned 45 last weekend.
That’s not old, but if you consider that most of my family dies before 60, it’s past middle age.
I have some hope; my aunt just celebrated her 70’th. She started taking care of herself, well, just about at my age right now. Maybe it’s not too late to do something.
Still, I have a lot of miules on me, and they’re hard miles. I’ve had surgery on both knees, I’ve recently had an injury that causes me to develop excruciating pain after sitting in a car for any length of time.
Anyone who knows what it’s like to have someone dig buckshot or, for that matter, rock salt-, out of their backside after a dispute over the ownership of produce knows how tough it is to forget those old injuries, and I’ve had more than a few. I hobble a bit after getting out of a car. I take a few extra moments to get moving in the morning. I’m heavy, so all my joints take a little extra pounding. When I spend a lot of time doing yardwork, it all hits me pretty hard for the next few days.
I ain’t ready to give up yet.
I have a child who needs to be guided through the more troubling times of her life. I intend to be there.
Happy belated birthday, kiddo! :D
Happy birthday kid. You’re not old yet. My baby sister is older than you are (46). Her youngest child just turned 13, and he’s got Tourette’s. I love him a lot, tho. I’m his favorite aunt.
If you’d like to share maladies, I could give you a run for your money. I’m not yet 50 (48 on Thursday), but I feel a lot older, usually when it’s rainy.
Hang in there, child. “Help (hope?) is on the way”! ACK!
Og, you are at the stage of life where things change.
Some things you have to work at (exercise, diet and therapy) and others you have to work around (orthopedic shoes, riding lawnmowers and hired help).
Enough from me.
BTW, Happy Birthday
Rich
Happy belated birthday. :o)
(I’m afraid we’re going to have to shoot you.)
Tanya, being shot by you might be an unspeakable pleasure. As I’ve said, though, I have an important job to do.
You didn’t tell me it was your birthday. I’d have happily bought you an alcoholic beverage.
Damn, Og. You’re supposed to tell us about your birthday BEFORE your birthday. Having said that, you’re two years younger than me, which makes you, technically, an old bastid.
I’m with you on the chirren, though. Mine are girls, 16 and 11, and I intend to be there to see grandkids from both. Even though my father died at 58, his father died at 59, and HIS father died at 58. I have my mother’s genes, you see. Or half of them. And they all live to 90. 76 works for me. After that the wheels fall off the bus, and who needs that?
Yes, I am an old bastid. Still, I bet I got more miles on me than you, Vman. Most of which are on rough roads with loose gravel, at night, with one headlight out, being chased by angry spouses other than mine own. Was that out loud?