60 Is the New 40

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One of my favorite bloggers, injaynesworld, commented on my October 15th Women of A Certain Age post about "turning" sixty.

"60 is the new 40!" she enthused.

I don't know if that is true or not but my bones aren't buying it.  

Last October, six of my oldest friends and I flew to New Orleans to share our mutual 60th birthdays.  Some live on the West Coast, one lives in the Keys, I live in New England and we all grew up together in SoCal.

We took full suites at the luxurious Windsor Court Hotel downtown.  Here's a sample view from our rooms on the 17th flr.

We were a ten minute walk from the Quarter.

And walk we did.

  

The minute you get to NOLA, you want to hit the Quarter.  You want to find a bar or restaurant.  You want to have a local drink and some of that Cajun/Creole food you've heard about all your life.

You want to see the sights:  the grill-faced balconies, the shot gun houses, the brick buildings, flower baskets, parks with lush tropical plants.

It's a hot flower of a place is New Orleans.  If you're having hot flashes, it's even hotter.

We had four days to check it all out.                    

You can have any kind of food you like but the seafood and local cooking is the best.  It just doesn't get any fresher or more delicious than here.

The music is the greatest.  It's everywhere, street corners, cafes, the obvious jazz places like Preservation Hall, open air patio restaurants.  There are so many truly fine musicians in New Orleans.  They say it's in the water and the blood.  

                                                                                   

                                                                                             

The atmosphere on Bourbon St is just what you expect: maniacally happy.  After a couple of cocktails, so are we!  I had Sazeracs, a favorite since my first visit to the city in 1981.  One of my friends tried a Hurricane, the rest drank their usual and missed out on the fun of Mint Juleps and the like.  We were feelin' the love just the same.                                                                  

This is the famous statue of  Andrew Jackson, my mother's cousin, many times removed.  Behind him is St. Louis Cathedral in Jackson Square.  

Personally,  I like the horse's face. 

                                                                                   

Breakfast at Cafe du Monde is a must. 

Beignets and chicory cafe au lait.  Heaven.   Fresh seafood, local cooking are the best ways to experience the true flavor of the area.  Our finest meal was a seafood place called G.W. Fins.  Other choices that come highly recommended are Acme Oyster House, Arnauds, Antoine's.  We had reservations at Galatoire's but somebody changed the game plan, much to my dismay.  Lucky for me I've dined there before as well as Brennan's, where bananas foster was created.  Lunch at Mr. B's was nice.  It's owned by the Brennan family too and is a gorgeous, wood paneled, elegant place.   

Against my better judgment, we opted for a three hour bus tour of the city.  It turned out to be educational, enlightening and fun.  We learned much and saw the remains of Katrina's devastation which is still shockingly extensive; visited the Ninth Ward now under some semblance of repair thanks to Harry Connick Jr. and his Musician's Village and Brad Pitts' 

                                                                                   

New Orleans City Park 

is 1300 acres and a cab ride from downtown.  It is worth a half or full day's trip.  Had we known and had the time, we'd have returned to take in everything from the Museum of Art to the Carousel Gardens Amusement Park and Storyland.   Photos are from the Botanical Gardens within the park.

          

The obligatory cemetery tour..  While stopped here, a full-sized bus pulled up and a ton of Super Senior citizens (meaning:  older than us) got out.  My best friend, who is usually not humorous, sarcastic or wry, commented

"That's out next trip."

We weren't sure if she meant the people on the bus tour or a trip to the cemetery.

FUN FACT:   Woldenberg Riverfront Park is a beautiful scenic stretch of land along the banks of the Mississippi.  There is an aquarium, aviary, IMAX theatre, lawns and walkways with comfortable benches.  It was funded by the Great Uncle of one of our group.  She wanted us to see it and I envisioned a little park.  Wrong. It is a long stretch of walking, biking, sitting and playing parkway bordering the river. Her Great Uncle Mal has been dead many years but she remembers him fondly. Seems he scandalized the city when he married a black woman and left his millions to her, after her funded the park.  (snort!)

One of the hundreds of  small parks within the Quarter with statuary, fountains, benches and deep shade in which to "set a spell."

THIS is what I thought my friend's uncle bequeathed.

This is the first night get-together in the bar of our hotel.  They make them some "fine" cocktails and we didn't hesitate.  We partied like it was 1999...well, more like 1969.


Many things change as you age; your jowls, butt and boobs descend, your face begins to crease here and there, your hair greys and your stamina ain't what it used to be.  But a lifetime of friendship remains no matter how grumpy, drunky, barfy, and silly we may be when we're together.

If "sixty is the new forty", this is what it looks like.  Not bad.  Not bad at all.

Putting Things Off

I've been putting off the blog.  Every time I think "I should update my condition or post a photo or something"  I fall asleep or forget what I wanted to say.  Yup, medication of the morphine kind will do that.  I've been in a fog since 3/13, the day of my surgery.

My knee is coming along nicely.  It has an 8+ inch incision right over the top.  Until yesterday, the incision was held together with 20+ staples.  They were removed and the remaining scar is practically a thing of beauty.  No Frankenstein stitches on me! 

The entire procedure has surprised me. As a veteran of two hip replacements, I dreaded this operation.  Why?  Because post op sucks.  After each hip surgery, there were so many restrictions:  no bending at the waist, no weight on the operated leg, walking protocol, dressing with a grabber, a sock slider, a leg lifter  (don't ask), sliding into bed, onto a chair, how to sit on a toilet properly,  how to get off said toilet.  I knew the meds were awful.  I have a very low tolerance and usually hallucinate, throw up or talk to nobody.   This time, however, there were virtually no walking, sitting, bending, weight bearing, dressing  protocols.  I could do what I could as I could.  Unbelievable!  Had I known it would be this easy, I wouldn't have put it off as many years as I did.

If any of you out there are contemplating a total knee replacement, go for it.  I waited too long for all the wrong reasons (fear).  One piece of advice:  Condition your body before you go in.  It will hasten the healing and recovery.  

Theme Thursday Mirror

Disclaimer:  I totally lifted this from my 12/30/09 post on my other blog Women of a Certain Age.  No sense reinventing the wheel. 

Every Christmas, Santa fills my stocking with delightful small items; but this year he blew it.  This year, he  included something I viewed with intuitive alarm:  a small, round extreme magnification make up mirror.  Now, I don't know about you, but when you are a women of a certain age, you do not want to view yourself in the extreme.  You may need an average magnifying mirror in order to better see your face without squinting while you apply makeup.  Extreme is another matter. The number of times this thing enlarged my eye was so unexpected and abrupt, I dropped it in dismay.

I look in the mirror every morning before and after makeup.  I am an optimist.  I generally feel I have very few lines or wrinkles or even age spots.  My skin is still on the oily side so I haven't the crepe paper texture so often associated with aging.  However, this mirror shows all my blemishes, crow's feet, enlarged pores and more.  It's like putting myself under a microscope and recoiling from what I now see.  Aarrggh! 

Don't get me wrong, I am trying very hard to age gracefully, sans face lifts, botox and whatever else people use to slow the process.  But, I still have my illusions and that mirror will shatter them if I keep it.  Can't break it as I'll have seven years of bad luck.

I think I'll wrap it and give it to one of my friends.

Photo from freeimages.com

Accoutrements of Age

I've caught the cold that's going around; stuffy head, watery eyes, unbelievable congestion, sore throat, cough, relentless sneezing.  I look like I'm coming off a three day drunk without having had any fun.  One side effect has been insomnia during which I tend to ruminate waaaayyy too much on my situation and my life. 

The other night, I turned on the light at 2AM to deal with my sleeplessness.  I looked around the room, focusing on the night stand.  It had a small bottle of sleeping pills, generic loose pills of acetaminophen, a bottle of Benefiber, my bifocals.  The sleeping pills are for emergency, I rarely take them but they're there if I need them.  Acetaminophen is for arthritis at night (supposedly less sleep invasive than Ibuprofen which I take during the day).  Benefiber...I have diverticulosis.  Bifocals?  I can't see.  Add to that the eye drops I now take because my vision is smudgy and my eyes need special cleaning (per opthamologist), the magnifying mirrors I use to put on make up and the exfoliant scrubs I use on my face (hoping to wipe it new I guess). 

WTF???  I realized if I were, say, a prospective buyer of this home and I saw all this "stuff" in the Master BR, I'd think something along the lines of, "old fuckers living here". 

Truly An Empty Nest Part III Transitions

Tree  Meeting by Cole Scott

Our new life begins in the home of my mother in law.  She's 83 years old, still recovering from the death, last year, of her ex husband and housemate of sixty years.  She is a tippler who self medicates.  She doesn't handle change well.  Of course, who at 83 handles change "well"?  The reasons for our moving in with her were many:  she has a rambling old farm house with an upstairs living space, she's not in good health, the house needs upkeep and it seems to make financial sense for all concerned.  She can use the extra money and we can save some money.  I am convinced that multi-generational living arrangements are making a comeback.  There are many reasons, not least of which is the current recession; but there is also a real need for care and protection of aging parents.  This is an idea we kicked around for several years.  When we finally put our house on the market and it sold in one day and we had five weeks to move, well, it became an immediate realty.

Adjusting to our new living arrangement is the hardest part.  My MIL is set in her ways and very stubborn.  While she embraces the idea of our living with her, she resents the invasion of her space.  We find ourselves walking on tiptoe around her, never quite sure of her mood for the day.  My father was the same way.  He did not like any deviation from his routine and could get cranky at the drop of a hat.  The cliches of old people are all true:  they have to eat early, they drive like crap, they keep the heat turned up to unbearable levels and they don't like change.  Eating, sleeping and regularity are their primary concern, not necessarily in that order.  My husband and I wonder if we'll be like that when we're their age.  OMG, I hope not. 

My younger son is living with us for the time being.  He has his own room, three squares and a new job.  He's content for now although he's making plans to move out in six months.  He patiently deals with his grandmother's moodiness.  His brother is home for Christmas and, together, they make her laugh and keep her entertained.  Their energy and joy are infectious. 

As for my husband and I, we're giving this a three month test.  We'd like it to work because she can't really stay in the house alone much longer.  It's not practical nor safe.  But, everyone has to make it work.  So, fingers crossed.