School Daze

As a child in a British military family, it wasn't unusual to attend private school. Private schools had a lot more discipline and were strong believers in corporal punishment. You did not want to get sent to the office of the Headmistress, where hanging on the wall behind her desk was the dreaded 'withy stick'. (A thin branch of a Willow tree used to inflict pain across the knuckles of naughty children!)

I was six years old when I attended such a school...Elmhurst Private School in Shropshire. For whatever reason, possibly having been traumatized, I still have vivid memories of EPS.

One that comes to mind the most was the day during class, when the teacher, Miss Thomas, was speaking about having respect for things, especially for our school. The teacher repeated this several times starting each sentence with, "Here at EPS"...then it happened! My classmate made a remark that I heard clearly, which in turn, caused me to burst out with a laugh. Can you imagine the look on teacher's face? Can you imagine the look on my face, which had turned scarlet with embarrassment?

So there I was...in the office of the Headmistress, Miss Abrahams who did not appear to have a sense of humor. What had caused this outburst in class?...how could I have been so disrespectful? I apologized as profusely as a six year could, knowing, however that freedom was out of the question until a full confession was made.

Well here it is...among some students EPS was affectionately known as Egg Packing School and everytime the teacher said, "Here at EPS", my classmate whispered those words. Now keep in mind to a six year old, that was funny, over half a century later, it still makes me smile!

By the way, I still have my hat badge emblazoned with EPS...funny the things we hang on to!

Thoughts On Aging

The following has been credited to George Carlin, I would like to share it with you and I hope it makes you smile.

Do you realize that the only time in our lives when we like to get old is when we’re kids? If you’re less than 10 years old, you’re so excited about aging that you think in fractions. “How old are you?” “I’m four and a half!” You’re never thirty-six and a half. You’re four and a half, going on five!

That’s the key, you get into your teens, now they can’t hold you back. You jump to the next number, or even a few ahead. “How old are you?” “I’m gonna be 16!” You could be 13, but hey, you’re gonna be 16! And then the greatest day of your life .. . you become 21. Even the words sound like a ceremony . YOU BECOME 21. YESSSS!!!

But then you turn 30. Oooohh, what happened there? Makes you sound like bad milk! He TURNED; we had to throw him out. There’s no fun now, you’re just a sour-dumpling. What’s wrong? What’s changed?

You BECOME 21, you TURN 30, then you’re PUSHING 40. Whoa! Put on the brakes, it’s all slipping away. Before you know it, you REACH 50 and your dreams are gone.But wait!!! You MAKE it to 60. You didn’t think you would!

So you BECOME 21, TURN 30, PUSH 40, REACH 50 and MAKE it to 60. You’ve built up so much speed that you HIT 70!

After that it’s a day-by-day thing; you HIT Wednesday! You get into your 80’s and every day is a complete cycle; you HIT lunch; you TURN 4:30; you REACH bedtime. And it doesn’t end there. Into the 90s, you start going backwards; “I Was JUST 92.”

Then a strange thing happens. If you make it over 100, you become a little kid again. “I’m 100 and a half!”

Oil Of O`Shut Up!

Is it just me or is anyone else tired of young, flawless skin women singing the praises of certain beauty products? Reality TV is big, right? So I suggest they use the same guidelines in advertising, show mature women...you know...the ones with real wrinkles and looking at 40 in the rear view mirror.

Don't get me wrong, I strongly advocate good skin care, and have basically stuck with the same beauty regime since high school. The only difference, now, is the Anti Gravity Cream is stronger and I buy it in 55 gallon drums!

If I had been alive in 1943, all I would have needed is a bar of Palmolive soap...although, with my luck, I'd been the 1 out of 3 that needed a few more days!

Act Your Age

Let me start with a little background about myself, I am the only child of two loving parents (God Bless them), loving but very strict parents. The daughter of a British military family...an early life of discipline and no nonsense, where a mother's 'look' could say more than a thousand words, and if the look didn't get your attention, then the ensuing slap on the bottom did. No I was not an abused child, I was very much loved, in fact.

Behavior-wise, a lot was expected at an early age; the old adage of "children should be seen and not heard" was the motto at our house. Actually my mother was full of adages, but her favorite had to have been "act your age". She seemed like such an expert on what you should or shouldn't be doing at a certain age, I thought she must have had a manual hidden somewhere.

A typical conversation went something like this: "You're acting like a child, act your age." "But Mom, I am a child." "That's no excuse, act your age, and don't be rude to me." This whole concept got very confusing to me, which probably explains why, now, at 61 I'm still trying to figure out how I should act!

I am appreciative that I am having the opportunity to age, given the other option, however, I'm not thrilled with the process, in fact just typing my age gives me palpitations! I'd love your company on this journey...oh and acting your age is purely optional.