Thursday, November 22, 2012

Hints Of Mortality

You know you are getting old when you run into a friend in the supermarket health food section. She is carting six boxes of gluten-free flour and your child is eating organic dried apples. You used to be wild, and so did this friend. As in, proper wild. As in, she can tell you a story featuring skis, a European black run and hallucinogens.

So far, so middle-aged.  But then you try and read the fine print on a packet of carob buttons and you both fish your reading glasses off the top of your heads.

Autumn years, I feel your gentle beckoning. But how will it all play out, I wonder?

Like this?

 Or like this?


  1. I'm hoping for the second one, I'd like those glasses now actually!

    1. I know, I LOVE her. And I am just jelly of that first one. I will never have that bustline. x

  2. You'll look way cooler than even the second one...


    1. Fine, thank you for your sweet delusions...x


Thanks for talking to me. I don't got cooties. Oh, except for when I got cooties.