Maxine tells it like it is.

Old Age, I decided, is a gift.
I am now, probably for the first time in my life, the person I have always wanted to be. Oh, not my body! I sometime despair over my body, the wrinkles, the baggy eyes, and the sagging butt. And often I am taken aback by that old person that lives in my mirror (who looks like my mother!), but I don't agonize over those things for long.
I would never trade my amazing friends, my wonderful life, my loving family for less gray hair or a flatter belly. As I've aged, I've become kinder to myself, and less critical of myself. I've become my own friend. I don't chide myself for eating that extra cookie, or for not making my bed, or for buying that silly cement gecko that I didn't need, but looks so avante garde on my patio. I am entitled to a treat, to be messy, to be extravagant. I have seen too many dear friends leave this world too soon; before they understood the great freedom that comes with aging.
Whose business is it if I choose to read or play on the computer until 4 AM and sleep until noon? I will dance with myself to those wonderful tunes of the 60 &70's, and if I, at the same time, wish to weep over a lost love ... I will.

I will walk the beach in a swim suit that is stretched over a bulging body, and will dive into the waves with abandon if I choose to, despite the pitying glances from the jet set.
They, too, will get old.
I know I am sometimes forgetful.
But there again, some of life is just as well forgotten. And I eventually remember the important things.
Sure, over the years my heart has been broken. How can your heart not break when you lose a loved one, or when a child suffers, or even when somebody's beloved pet gets hit by a car? But
broken hearts are what give us strength and understanding and compassion. A heart never broken is pristine and sterile and will never know the joy of being imperfect.

I am so blessed to have lived long enough to have my hair turning gray, and to have my youthful laughs be forever etched into deep grooves on my face.
So many have never laughed, and so many have died before their hair could turn silver.
As you get older, it is easier to be positive. You care less about what other people think. I don't question myself anymore. I've even earned the right to be wrong. So, to answer your question, I like being old. It has set me free. I like the person I have become. I am not going to live forever,
but while I am still here, I will not waste time lamenting what could have been, or worrying about what will be. And I shall eat dessert every single day(if I feel like it).

MAY OUR FRIENDSHIP NEVER COME APART ESPECIALLY WHEN IT'S STRAIGHT FROM THE HEART

Menopause tips

This is a specially formulated diet designed to help WOMEN cope with the stress that builds during the day

BREAKFAST
1 Grapefruit
1 slice Wholemeal toast
1 cup skimmed milk

LUNCH
1 small portion lean, steamed chicken with a cup of spinach
1 cup herbal tea
1 biscuit

AFTERNOON TEA
The rest of the biscuits from the packet
1 tub of Hagen Daz ice cream with chocolate topping

DINNER
4 bottles of wine (red or white)
2 loaves garlic bread
1 family size Supreme pizza
3 chocolate bars

LATE NIGHT SNACK
1 whole cheesecake (eaten directly from the freezer)

REMEMBER :
'stressed' spelled backwards is 'desserts'

A brief history of the colour Purple

A brief history of purple (work in progress)
Purple is a precious colour associated with regal luxury because whilst fairly abundant in nature purple was for many milennia a difficult colour to produce in paint or dye.
The first purple pigment was Tyrian purple, a dyestuff produced by the Phonecians in the city of Tyre. This was around 2000 years ago, i think (will check - futher info welcomed). Tyre was the great port of Phonecia, (modern Lebanon) a trading nation with outposts all across the known world. Tyrian purple was produced from the shells of the concholepas mollusk "Chanque," and a thier purple pigment was a highly prized export. The dye gave a rich and deep purple that was highly prized, and highly priced.
In medieval times, purple was a colour reserved for the powerful and wealthy - kings, queens and bishops wore a lot of purple, whilst commoners had to make do with mucky grey and poo brown. Purple pigment was still made from Mollusc shells, and mixing purple paint required the artist or dyer to obtain vermillion (red) and ultramarine (blue) - which were also rare and very expensive.
So purple was reserved for the powerful, with only blue and gold paint valued more highly, (these were the traditional dominant colours of the madonna's robe, and the golden holy halos. the bystanding kings wore purple, as do monarchs and senior religious figures today.)
It wasn't until 1856 that purple dye was synthesised, and could be cheaply produced. William Henry Perkins was trying to synthesise quinine, (a medicine for malaria) and accidentally produced the first chemical pigment. It happened to be purple, because purple is the bestest colour.
At just 19 years old, Perkins left the Royal College of Chemistry to commercialise his invention, and developed the new industry of synthetic dyes (he went on to develop colours other than purple). He and other UK entrepeneurs initially dominated the market, but by the 1870s chemical syestuffs were being produced and sold in greater numbers by German companies.
Edwardian fashions of the period were often in dull colours and blacks. Queen Victoria's long mourning put Britain into a gloomy darkness, and revolution, pollution and opression were reflected in the decades long trend for black.
But the new artificial pigments were gaining ground, and by the 1920s fashion designers like Paul Poiret (influenced by the bright costumes of the Russian Ballet) were introducing vivid colour into ladies fashions. Mass production and the growth of ready made fashions, along with cheap synthetic dyes meant that purple clothing was finally becoming available to all. Sadly, during the 1930s dusty grey sackcloth and ashes dominated the fashion scene, followed by khaki uniforms in the early forties.
During the sixties, purple was a very groovy colour and "purple haze" a popular state of mind. In the seventies, purple and green swirls were considered a delightful furnishing fabric. Prince was probably the most prominant purple person in the 1980s, and purple and silver were all over millenium shop windows.
Purple is a very bright and jolly colour, with a tonal range from lilac to mauve, indigo to magenta, and hundreds of shades in between. Clint Boon, the excellent hammond organist, ex of the inspiral carpets, sings "problem with the world today, not enough purple too much grey" and who can disagree with an organist with a pudding bowl haircut and purple cordorouy flares?

Obituary from The London Times

Today we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend, Common Sense, who has been with us for many years. No one knows for sure how old he was, since his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape. He will be remembered as having cultivated such valuable lessons as:
- Knowing when to come in out of the rain;
- Why the early bird gets the worm;
- Life isn't always fair;
- and maybe it was my fault.

Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies (don't spend more than you can earn) and reliable strategies (adults, not children, are in charge).
His health began to deteriorate rapidly when well-intentioned but overbearing regulations were set in place. Reports of a 6-year-old boy charged wit h sexual harassment for kissing a classmate; teens suspended from school for using mouthwash after lunch; and a teacher fired for reprimanding an unruly student, only worsened his condition.

Common Sense lost ground when parents attacked teachers for doing the job that they themselves had failed to do in disciplining their unruly children.

It declined even further when schools were required to get parental consent to administer sun lotion or an aspirin to a student; but could not inform parents when a student became pregnant and wanted to have an abortion.

Common Sense lost the will to live as the churches became businesses; and criminals received better treatment than their victims.

Common Sense took a beating when you couldn't defend yourself from a burglar in your own home and the burglar could sue you for assault.

Common Sense finally gave up the will to live, after a woman failed to realize that a steaming cup of coffee was hot. She spilled a little in her lap, and was promptly awarded a huge settlement.

Common Sense was preceded in death, by his parents, Truth a nd Trust, by his wife, Discretion, by his daughter, Responsibility, and by his son, Reason.

He is survived by his 4 stepbrothers;
I Know My Rights
I Want It Now
Someone Else Is To Blame
I'm A Victim

Not many attended his funeral because so few realized he was gone. If you still remember him, pass this on. If not, join the majority and do nothing.

Tina Turner

Definitions, must we always pigeon hole?

Well, for lack of a better term, one must revert to Greek and so, I am polyamorous. A new phase in life, and most curious to see how it all shapes up. It has been a long, sometimes hard road the last year, and now settling into a nice routine of having a wide variety of friends of all kinds to satisfy my many needs and wants. Always thought it was a bit unreasonable to expect one person to be all things to you. If you happen to truly find such a person, kudos toyou, appreciate them. As for me, I think I will keep spreading the hugs around. No need to hoard them.

Contentment

Not sure if the pictures are a bit much or overstating it, but really, can you overstate contentment? Not likely I say.



Just having such an amazing time with my boys, G, J, and Z, as well as my cuddle group friends.



So what if I am dead broke and living on a tight budget? There is nothing that money can buy me that I don't already have.

Thank you boys, you make Auntie Barb ludicrously happy.

**Schmooches**