I'm back home after five days in Palm Desert with Hubby and three days in La Quinta with friends. I had a lot of time to relax and reflect, and one of the things I reflected on was this "getting old" thing. I used to chuckle to myself when I'd hear "old" people say, "I don't want to live in one of those senior places with all those old people". Now I understand completely. I'm still 40. Well, not really, but in my mind I'm 40 and 40 I shall stay. Actually, 50 was okay, too, so if I have to age I'll get to 50 and then stop.
Awhile back I changed my status from "working part-time" to "semi-retired". Right about the same time I joined a swimming aerobics class that consisted of primarily "really retired" seniors. I also started taking courses at the local university in their "gerontology" program for seniors. I dropped out of both and have taken up art classes in a private studio and spent the summer there with children and younger women. I'm soon going to start a "low impact" aerobics class with my former trainer who told me I can't call it the "old people" class. I'm also going back to "working part-time" status. Why? I'm not old, that's why.
This weekend in the desert was a "blast" to quote my nearest and dearest. Our friends, Rich and Teri, invited us along with Tom and Darlene and Tom and Amy, to stay in their lovely home in La Quinta. We ate, drank a little wine, laughed, bobbed in the pool, talked for hours on end about anything and everything, and played lots of cards. I think we solved all of the world's problems this weekend, if they would only listen to us. Yes, we talked about social security and medicare, and a few aches and pains, but it really wasn't much different than when we were all young and talking about things that went along with earlier ages. All of our conversations were spirited and lively. It was great fun. And the weekend proved that we're not old yet.
