Bring It On!

It took me all these years
to figure out that I'm a winter person.

Don't get me wrong-
I actually love summer.
But, let's face the facts here.
Summer was designed for
only two kinds of people:
The young
and the thin.

For those of you that don't know me-
I am truly not elephant size.
I just need to lose 10 20 30 pounds (or so)
to be considered healthy on
that stupid AMA chart.

Summer is meant for halter tops,
bikinis, mini dresses and short shorts.
It's meant for long, lean legs,
flat bellies,
and slender arms.
It is ideal for the graceful-
the sophisticated-
the elegant
and the five year old.
Summer people thrive on
iced tea,
edamame,
sweet berry wine
and mascara.

I just don't fit in anymore.

Yes, I finally realize
that I am meant to be a winter girl.

Because winter is designed
for two kinds of people:
The big and the immobile.

I was meant for sweatshirts,
sloppy, long-sleeved tees
and bulky sweaters.
I was built for long pants,
fuzzy socks,
high neck blouses
and mittens.
I am best suited for
cups of hot coffee,
big chocolate chip cookies,
giant bowls of cheesy chili,
and daytime naps.

Sand volleyball?
Roller blading?
Swimming? Jogging? Dancing?
Nahhh...Not for me.

Try checkers, old movies,
reading fat novels,
drawing,
thinking,
dreaming.

If you think I'd be partial
to snow skiing,
or ice skating,
you'd be wrong.
Yet, once in awhile-
I get a wild hair
and build a snowman
or make a snow angel.

I just don't understand
why it took me all these years
to realize the truth.

I suppose I battled it bravely.
Each summer I fought to
get into that little suit,
bare my spider-veined legs,
and pull my boobs up
to the correct level.
I tried to like edamame,
volleyball,
and greasy suntan lotion.
I tried to pretend I wasn't sweating,
starving, hurting, or hopeless.

But I give up.
I am officially a winter person.

Bring it on!

Celebrating Two Years

In celebration of my second year of blogging,
I decided it was time for a little freshness.

My old blog title came from the column
that I used to write for the city newspaper.
I always felt it was a bit old-fashioned-
stuffy maybe-
and those crazy newspaper days
are behind me now.

Plus, it seems when you Google
"Porch" or "Pondering",
you get a lot of people that
ponder on their porches.

So, I opted for my blog subtitle
as my new heading.
Please make a note on your bookmarks.

I am still on a mini-vacation of sorts.
When my husband goes back to work,
I'll return here every morning
with something new to say.
I appreciate all those friends who have
continued to follow and comment
even through this lull.
Thank you.

Two years.....
How time flies
when you're having fun.

Thanks for joining me,
supporting me,
and being my best friends.

I'm peeping in from time to time
when I have internet access,
even though I may not always have time to comment.
I promise I will be back to visit you all soon.

For now, let's go have some cake
and celebrate!!

Getting Old

Sometimes I hate the oldness of me.

Where once my face was smooth
like doll plastic
and the color of a ripe peach,
I now see leathered creases
along the sagging jawline
and branches of wrinkles
around my eyes.

My hair that was once long
and shiny
and vibrant,
now hangs in short tufts
of bleached blond
that remain untamed.

My body has wilted.
Sags like a old tent.
Padded with too-soft skin
that falls in folds
and flaps
and furrows.

My kids look at me differently.

It's as if they suddenly see
how time has swept over me.
They notice the withered hands,
the corrugated belly,
the tired feet that sometimes moan.

Can't they see
that my heart is still young?
That my soul laughs...
That in my mind, I run through fields of flowers
with starlight glistening in my hair...
That my skin is tan and taut
and never tired...
That I am young and pretty
and forever fascinating...

Time has only changed the outside.

Yet,sometimes
I just hate
the oldness of me...