It’s a Birthday!

TOMORROW I’LL GAIN a year, becoming just one short of my seventies. Almost too much on the schedule for me to think about it, except for birthday wishes popping in  from likely and unlikely places. It has got me to thinking about the kinds of euphemisms we employ to discuss such matters. I am already into the “years young” category, as well as having become “a woman of a certain age.” Those sound slightly elegant, slightly pandering, and I wonder if we could just settle it once and for all by being brutally honest. Not as brutal as “over the hill” or “one foot in the grave,” perhaps. But maybe “coming into her fogey-hood,” or “she’s one round short of a geezer.”  I know. How about “That Sisco, she’s a coot.” I know. Sounds kinda disrespectful. But I think I could assume the mantle. I’ll start by dubbing this little farmette out on the edge of the West Plains in celebration. How does “Coot’s Edge” grab you. Maybe I’ll get into that cranky blog I keep threatening to start. Maybe tomorrow. Or not. We coots don’t have to keep a schedule, y’know. I think I could get into this. Stay tuned.



About yarnspinnerpress

Story teller, retired journalist, author, folksinger, folklorist, gardener.
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14 Responses to It’s a Birthday!

  1. Marcy Weinbeck says:

    I like “Coot’s Edge”. And, FYI, my just-turned-85 year old mom has proclaimed for many years that as we get older, we also should celebrate our natal days for a longer period. You, Ms Coot, get about a month of celebrating, getting used to finishing one decade and preparing to enter the next, and just generally raising a ruckus (as only you can!) … So, make it good!! 🙂

  2. Eric Somers says:

    Happy Birthday you young kid! (said by a 70 year old). Hope I see you next week when I am in town for NATF.

  3. Sarah Birch Land says:

    How’s ‘beloved elder’ strike you?

  4. mommawhitecougar says:

    In my Spiritual Path, Elders are revered and a woman undergoes her “Croning”, usually between 55-60. The Crone holds knowledge, understanding, compassion. I am proud to be a crone, but understand it has a negative connotation in many Western ‘cultures’.

    Desert winds blow desert sands
    Around a gnarled old tree.
    Although the air is stifling hot,
    It blooms as all can see.

    How can this ancient withered thing
    Have leaves on twig and bough?
    And how can it somehow survive
    Where nothing should grow now?

    I know that if a thing’s unseen
    Does not mean it’s not there.
    And many things may come to pass
    To those who trust and dare.

    Beneath the sand is water sweet
    But none above can know,
    This water kisses thirsty roots
    Which causes sap to flow.

    How like that tree can be a Crone –
    Her life was shaped by care,
    Inside still beats a youthful heart –
    Take time to look – it’s there.

    Her hair is grey, her face is lined
    Her step has slowed its pace,
    But ancient wisdom fills her now
    She blooms with love and grace.

    Blessings on your birthday, dear friend.

  5. You once called your garden house in Springfield Sisco’s folly…how about that?

  6. Tammy says:

    Happy birthday to you. I just had one myself, and once I stop thinking about the number, it’s not half bad.

  7. Constance says:

    Coot’s Hoot!

  8. druzianich says:

    Happy Birthday. Thank you for sharing part of your life via your wonderful blog.
    All the best, always,

  9. Bebe Wood says:

    I agree with Constance….Coot’s-a-Hoot !!!! And Many More Coots to you…………Cheers, Bebe

  10. eb Blevins says:

    Happy Birthdy to you….from an almost 74 year old and plan many more..eb

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