It’s Late

I’m very tired, but yet I’m stretched out in my recliner writing this. My legs ache. Because I rode the stationary bike for 22 minutes. I should have gone to visit Reo today, but since I didn’t I thought I should expend some energy, thus the bike ride. It’s kind of interesting how walking in work boots in muddy fields in unpleasantly cold weather is easier than riding a stationary bike in a comfortable room. I have not figured out yet how to handle my aging body. Should I continuously move about, or should I simply enjoy relaxation in this warm room, looking at art work on the wall? Of course, there is March Madness to get involved in. The 55 inch TV blares basketball scores, crowds holler and appear frantic as the young athletes run up and down the court, desperately trying to win their game. Some end up thrilled, some end up tearfully unhappy. Doesn’t concern me much, except my bracket is doomed by the wrong teams winning. What does this really have to do with my aging body? Not a thing, except it takes my mind off my aching legs.

I actually wrote this a few days ago. Forgot to publish, but decided to let it appear today. What the heck, hey!

Published by mjm1942

I have aged. Of course. I was born in Trenton, NJ in 1942. I now live in Kentucky. It's 2019. My marriage has lasted 56 years, and I still love the man. My three children live far from us, and we do miss them; however, it's fine with just he and me. We are best friends. I love my dogs and my horses. I have failed as a writer (dreams died long ago), but I still dabble now and then. I have always been restless; perhaps because I have moved so many times in my life. I feel like something is waiting to happen around the corner. I graduated from Salem College at 55 years of age. I am a woman.

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