babybloomr

(AND BY THE WAY, you don’t qualify as ‘old’ around here unless you are at least in your 90’s! Just so you know.)

I guess it has a lot to do with the fact that my mom is 93, sharp as a dang tack, and I just love her. Mom does not in any way fit the ‘sweet little old lady’ stereotype– she says that inside she does not feel nearly as old as 93 sounds. Of course she has slowed down, of course she’s not like a woman in her 40’s, but her curiosity, her passion for God, her interest in what’s going on in the world and her capacity to enjoy things and laugh at herself has not faded as the years have added up.

I’ve been thinking about all of that a lot lately. Maybe it’s because between FaceBook, Twitter, this blog and all of the other social media out there I have been reconnecting with a lot of people from my past. And when I click over to their photo pages and see pictures of my high school buddies with their GRANDCHILDREN, I am honestly shocked that they are old enough to be that… old. There’s a word for that, let’s see, what is it? Oh yeah, denial. Because, hello, I’m the exact same age– just because my kids are still teenagers doesn’t mean I’m any younger than my classmates who are walking their offspring down the aisle! I totally get what Mom is talking about, now. Even though I see that blonde in the mirror with the crinkly eyes and the ever-increasing number of chins, on the inside I can also see a show-off-y little kid, smart-aleck-y teenager, lovestruck young wife, grateful, grateful new mother and older-but-wiser woman all looking back at me.

Maybe that’s why I love old ladies so much. I’ve learned that behind every heavily-lined face and slow-moving body there are not just the ghosts of all of their past selves, but the soul, the very essence of exactly who they were in their ‘prime.’ If I take the time and energy to engage, it’s not very long before that self starts getting revealed which is endlessly fascinating to the writer/voyeur in me.   Of course, it can go either way– a lot of sweet-looking little old ladies are anything but!  Russ often quotes something he heard a preacher say once: “What you don’t conquer in your youth, you become in your old age.” So when I see older women who are kind of grouchy and bitter and complaining about everything, I have a sneaking feeling that has always been in there, even when they were young and active. And when I see older women who are funny and wise and interesting, I think that was probably always a part of their personality, and that they simply refused to allow the years and the indignities of old age rob them of those things. Because even though we can’t always control how our body ages, especially in the case of  illness or accidents, I’m thinking that we CAN control how we react to whatever we have on our plate.

Mom has been blessed beyond reason with enough good health that she can still participate in life. She reads the paper and watches the news, she gardens and cooks and fusses at Daddy to walk more and eat fresh fruit. She clips out articles that she thinks her kids need to read  and sends them to us– usually about the benefits of walking and fresh fruit! Living a long time guarantees that you will have more than your share of loss. I see that with Mom, who has outlived all of her 8 brothers and sisters. But I also see her choosing to focus on what she still has– her husband, her children, her grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Mom has set an impossible standard for my sisters and I to follow, but honestly, she is one of the greatest inspirations in my life. Hopefully, when I’m 93 I’ll still be blogging away, sifting through the events of my day to try to come up with something to tell you guys so we can all discuss it to death! I’ll be posting pictures of my grandkids and griping about Pip (oh yeah, he’ll outlive us all) and going to Homecoming concerts (oh yeah, Bill will outlive us all too.) And I am TOTALLY counting on all of you guys to still be here, OK?  *pinky swear*

I’ll leave you with a few pictures of the incredible 104-year old British lady named Ivy Bean that inspired this post. Someone recommended that I follow her on Twitter (she has over 45,000 followers!) and as I idly clicked over to look at her profile I found these photos and laughed out loud. I did some research and was delighted to discover that apparently Ivy is the resident celebrity at the Hillside Manor Residential Home For Retired Ladies and Gentlemen in the town of Bradford, England. Their website proudly features links to various newspaper articles that describe Ivy as “the oldest person on FaceBook.” One of them, dated 2007, says, “The former millworker heard about the internet social networking site as staff chatted at the care home where she lives. She told them, “I’d like to have a go.”  … “I love being online, and it beats writing with a pen!”

Hillside Manor looks like a lovely place, with lots of activities. Here’s a photo of Ivy (second from left) and some of her girlfriends preparing to compete in the Bradford Senior Olympics– please note that the list of events include ‘cap hurling,’ ‘walking stick javelin throwing’ and the ever-popular ‘bean bag shot put.’

(Courtesy of Daily Mirror)

Ivy’s the one cracking up in the blue dress, third from left.

Courtesy of  telegraphandargus.co.uk

I personally don’t think it’s an accident that Ivy is surrounded by women friends in almost every shot– well, except for that one picture where she’s working with her own personal Geek Squad…

Anyway, these are the shots that completely stole my heart! I truly hope to live long enough to be the seemingly sweet little old lady who is actually a feisty little “Chicks on Tour” lady who is still capable of, well, THIS:

Courtesy of TwitPic–   http://twitpic.com/b3vwd and http://twitpic.com/b3vtc

CHEERS!

The title of this post describes what this blog is turning into– and I could not be more delighted! Do you guys have any idea how much fun it is to get the kind of response you have been giving me lately?

Because here’s what the process of posting actually looks like: I come up with an idea, think about it a while (sometimes making notes or Google-ing more information on the subject), sit down at the computer and try to put it into exactly the words that adequately convey what I’m trying to say (whether serious or ridiculous), relentlessly edit and re-edit myself until it looks and feels right to me (here’s a dirty little secret: how many of you are aware of the fact that sometimes I continue to edit waaay after I’ve even already posted it?! I actually sneak back to my first draft and change things, sometimes even a day or two later!), try to find something visual to go with it, then hit “Publish”, then sit back and see how you respond.

And here’s the REALLY incredible part– you all actually show up, read what I’ve written, write the most insightful, funny, encouraging, challenging responses, and then start talking among yourselves! Completely independent of me, you are developing a (here’s that cliched, over-used term again…) community here. You are learning about each other and becoming friends. You are praying for each other and checking in to see how you are all doing. It’s just truly the most amazing thing to witness. It’s like I’m having a dinner party with all of these different kinds of people, and I’m looking around and realizing that yeah, this is totally working– everybody has now drifted into the kitchen where I’m cooking the food and you’re all sitting around the table or perching up on the countertop with your coffee or glass of wine (yes, I’m looking at YOU, jonny! OK, and me too…) and while I putter around, you guys are engaging in these lively discussions and laughing your heads off and generally having a great time. That’s what the ‘bloomr feels like these days, the perfect dinner party! So today, I just wanted to take a minute to thank you all for coming, and continuing to come week after week. I promise I’ll try my best to do my part and keep coming up with wonderful new menus that will keep you coming back!

And as long as I am beating this analogy to death on the subject of food…

Yesterday when I was at the grocery store grabbing something to make for dinner before I picked up the girls from school, I turned the corner by the pasta aisle and saw a lovely  display of something I haven’t bought in a while… Hostess Twinkies. Now for my international readers, I will explain exactly what I am talking about. A Twinkie is a yummy little junk snack food item made of  ‘golden sponge cake with a creamy filling.’ Here’s a visual:

They aren’t exactly the healthiest thing you’ll ever eat –with a shelf life of about, oh, a decade or so, I would guess they have more than their fair share of preservatives, etc. They’ve been around for about 75 years, so if you grew up in the U.S. chances are they were definitely a part of your childhood. My mom used to send me to school with all kinds of incredible home-baked treats in my ‘Man From U.N.C.L.E .’ lunch box– from her perfect chocolate chip cookies to her tart, flaky apricot turnovers– but of course being a kid I would stare longingly at my friends whose moms had stuck a cheap, prefabricated, plastic-wrapped, fake-cream-filled, artery-clogging Hostess Twinkie in their lunch and attempt to negotiate a trade.  (Mom also used to optimistically send us all to school with carefully cut-up carrot and celery sticks with their own little package of salt to dip them in, which we of course would systematically throw away unopened every single day, but that’s another story.)

Now that I’m a card-carrying adult with a God-given right to purchase my own snack items, every once in a while I’ll remember the delicious golden goodness that is personified in the body of a Twinkie and buy myself a box. Yesterday was one of those days, but sadly, at some point in their childhood I thoughtlessly introduced them to the girls as well, so now I have to share. I don’t buy them often, but when I do, dang, they hit the spot! Hostess also makes a slew of other unhealthily delicious things– don’t even get me started on the glorious chocolate waxiness of the  Ding Dong– but being a traditionalist, I do have a tendency to return to the Twinkie.

When we were in London, Madi and I discovered an unbelievable  little British snack item called a “Mini-Pud”– a name derived, I think, from the fact that they are mini versions of a larger dessert which the English call a ‘pudding’, but which to my American eyes is not anything like the little plastic cups of  Jello pudding that we have, and is in reality, more like a cake. At any rate, may I just say… FAB-U-LOUS!!! They are made of a dense, dark, rich, very expensive-tasting chocolate and when you heat them for precisely 12 seconds in the microwave (trust me, Madi and I ate so many of these that we got it down to a science) they come out with a molten lava-like interior that oozes onto your plate when you cut into it with your spoon. I would pair them with some perfect little English strawberries and a dollop of real whipped cream… heaven. Madi was more hard-core, she ate them straight from the refrigerator, unadorned and creamy cold. Here’s a picture, for the purpose of international snack comparison:

Clearly, as in most things, the British have the edge in the ‘elegance’ category, but I do have to stand up for the good ol’ U S of A and say that though our Twinkies are not as gorgeously decadent as the mini puds, they do have the edge in the ‘ridiculously addictive’ category. If you eat more than two mini puds at one sitting you will definitely feel a little queasy and over-sated, whereas most people I know can blow through about four Twinkies before they even realize it. Or maybe that’s just me.

At any rate, I’d like to hear from all of you: What is your favorite not-that-good-for-you-but-hard-to-resist snack item of choice? As always, in the interest of diversity and world peace, I am not placing any strict guidelines on the discussion. My heart and mind are open to all manner of classifications– your sweet, your salty, your savory, WHATEVER.

Let the snacking discourse begin.