It is the holiday season (I can be religiously correct) ; for my entire life so far I have been blessed with celebrating a Christian custom and a birth date within two days of each other. So, at the end of the first decade of the twenty-first century (or is it the first year of the second decade; I could never figure); I find myself grooving on another Christmas and on turning sixty-five.
In case you are not too busy with all the celebrating, here is a list from which you can pluck an item to get me for my B-day/Xmas gift:
1. Toe nail clipper with a built in light; my toes have moved farther away and thus are always in the dark.
2. Socks with built in bunion pads; as my toes moved farther away, they must have twisted my feet for I have hellacious bunions. My Dad was convinced his were from wearing hand-me-down-poorly-fitting-shoes during the Depression. I have discovered that bunions are a genetic malady which ignores totally the price one spends on shoes. My bunions arrived suddenly over night; I went to bed with lovely feet, fit for a pedicure commercial, but woke up with feet as twisted as gum lumber.
3. A weed whacker for the weird hairs that have begun to sprout from areas on my body that I did not know had follicles; I need a mini-weed whacker that will fit in my ears and up my nose and down the back of my neck, to mention areas on my carcass that are mentionable. The battery powered nibbler I bought, BUT WAIT THERE’S MORE, just will not make it through the undergrowth.
4. Stock in a titanium orthopedic appliance company; I am destined for some knees, digits, and vertebrae.
5. Magnifying bins for the refrigerator; I selected, peeled, and cut a bratwurst for a cucumber the other night, interesting salad. My bifocals no longer work except for objects at eleven inches and four hundred feet (hence the toe nail problem is exacerbated).
6. A putter with which I can make better than 20 percent of putts inside of 4 feet; I have a hundred putters; one more will not get in the way.
7. A year’s supply of gas without ethanol; a guy has to hope once in a while that something sensible will happen in a country that is supposedly sensible.
8. A new Medicare card; I washed mine already.
That’s it; I live simply; my wants are few; I am patient; after all, I waited eighteen years for a regulation birthday cake to replace the fruit cakes I usually got. Had I no siblings, I would have thought b-day cakes were naturally rummy-brown with raisins and chunks of sticky pineapple. Ah well. Being born near a major holiday builds character or a character or a fruitcake.
I hope all have a joyous season filled with family fun and pleasant memories. Fuzz, too, sends regards from her brand, new, plaid, LL Bean doggy bed (2.99 at Goodwill).