The “CAN” Polish is Free

“Getting older is inevitable: Aging is optional” – Christine Northrup

I know, I know. It’s hard sometimes to get motivated to eat right and exercise, not only our bodies, but our minds. But since I’m about to scroll down another line to hit the year I was born (lucky cursor), I thought I’d find some inspiration.

Aging is a relative term. Some might feel their life is almost over when they hit the big 30. Others, like me, understand that we knew very little at that time.

As actress Helen Mirren said, “Your 40s are good.  Your 50s are great.  Your 60s are fab.  And 70 is f*@king awesome!”

Want to keep your get-up-and-go getting up and going? Ponder these:

— “For the unlearned, old age is winter; for the learned, it is the season of the harvest.”   ~Hasidic saying

— “I believe the second half of one’s life is meant to be better than the first half. The first half is finding out how you do it. And the second half is enjoying it.”  ~Frances Lear

— “None are so old as those who have outlived enthusiasm.”  ~Henry David Thoreau

— “I am appalled that the term we use to talk about aging is ‘anti.’ Aging is as natural as a baby’s softness and scent. Aging is human evolution in its pure form.”~ Jamie Lee Curtis

— “The great thing about getting older is that you become more mellow. Things aren’t as black and white, and you become much more tolerant. You can see the good in things much more easily rather than getting enraged as you used to do when you were young.”    ~Maeve Binchy

— “We don’t grow older, we grow riper.” ~Pablo Picasso

— “You’re either marvelous or you’re boring, regardless of your age.” – Morrisse

— “Laughter is timeless. Imagination has no age. And Dreams are forever.” – Walt Disney

— “Grow old along with me! The best is yet to be.” ~Robert Browning

 

Accept and be loyal to yourself.

And remember, that WON’T and CAN’T are two entirely different kettles.

The CAN polish is free.

still-life-old-classic-kettle-art-44733996

 

c7abd782d9a242b5f4cfc47885425bd6--kettle-claude

 

 

photo 1: Royal Free Stock Photos

Painting 2: by Claude Joseph Bail (1862-1921)

Daily Word Prompt: Loyal

No Longer Can I Fill these Shoes

No longer can I fill these shoes.

Yet I remember a time

when the patent leather formed neatly around my feet

soft, worn, comfortable

Soles carefree and made of ease

durable for playing chase and hide and seek

or freeze tag in the dark

the lining soft enough for catching fireflies

and my parents goodnight kisses

The tips firm, protecting toes that so easily stumbled.

The heels perfectly made for scuffling

for dragging my feet when it suited

Shoes, easy to pull off for bedtime stories

and tuck-me-in time.

 

No longer do they fit, those shoes

Yet, it matters not.

I have merely grown into a larger size

the soul intact.

 

My Art 050 (1)

 

art by C. Dennis-Willingham

The Woman’s Wee Man

So much did she love her wee Sammy Crockett

she kept him tucked safely inside her shirt pocket.

He didn’t much mind the prospect at first

he never was hungry, nor parched from a thirst.

The lining was soft, the fabrics in style

He seemed satisfied, at least for a while.

 

But the day she took him on a long morning  stroll

he started to feel like a con on parole.

He yelled from her pocket, “Enough is enough!

“Yes, I HEAR plenty, but I want to SEE stuff!”

Like bands playing songs, leaves blowing off trees,

a man at a circus atop a trapeze,

the people at market buying their wares,

the making of popcorn at our county fairs!”

 

Well, she loved him so much she planned to devise

something he’d like that would fit his wee size.

She built him a house from a splendid, smooth boulder

and attached the small building to the top of her shoulder.

She filled it with pillows, a couch and plush chairs

and cut out some windows to give him fresh air.

12488204 - image of a hand holding up a house on nice clear blue background.

 

“Look dear,” she said as they ventured to town,

“The queen has arrived with her shiny jeweled crown!

She continued to talk as she traipsed over ground

But her husband said nothing, no peep nor a sound.

 

She turned to the silence, looked in the wee house

and there, snoring deeply, lay Crockett, her spouse.

The townsfolk could hear as she said without doubt,

“He seemed to forget that he yearned to look out!” 

She carted him home, placed the house on a shelf

and decided to do something fun for herself.

 

 

Screenshot 2017-10-15 15.44.43

 

 

first image- 123rf.com

second image:  youtube.com “Walk cycle-the proud naked old lady”

 

Grandma’s Slice of Idiom Advice

If you can’t get back on the horse

– -well, you can, of course

If you can’t find your way home

you’re not alone

If you can’t lead the horse to water

then, dear granddaughter,

forget about the nag.

‘Cause if you can’t get to the cookie,

eat through the bag!

IMG_2642

and if you bite off more than you can chew

don’t worry, you’ll pull through

Let sleeping dogs lie

and you’ll be fine

‘Cause your guess is as good as mine.

 

 

Concede to breathe

Concede that much of life is beyond our control.

 

But recognize distinction

between fact or merely theory

what you can and cannot see

enlightened recognition

accept

adapt

succumb

to breathing free

winds-of-freedom-mona-davis_orig

 

 

photo credit

daily word prompt: Succumb

Quite the Keyboard

On a scale from from one to ten

where do you fit in?

On a scale from high to low

which direction do you go?

On a scale from left to right

undisturbed or too uptight?

On a scale from A to G

what matters is the harmony

Whatever range in which we fall

Quite the keyboard are we all!

My Art 059.jpg

 

 

 

Weekly photo challenge: SCALE

“Eyes are the Windows of a (fraudulent) Soul”

He was a fraud! While his wife did all the work, he took the credit.

While he went out to play with other women, she was locked away for fourteen hours a day to making their living.

He posed for photographs and squandered away the millions his wife made.

The Big Eyes of sad, melancholy children, stared back at Margaret for she was them and they were her. But the subservient Margaret kept quiet.

Until she didn’t.

She divorced Walter in 1965 and finally, in 1970 she told the truth. “I’m the artist of these paintings.”

After the lawsuit, “poor” Walter filed for bankruptcy and faded into his original, untalented self.

To read more about Margaret and Walter Keane, read here.

 

Daily prompt: Fraud