photo by John Sandel
I've never been one to lie about my age. I'm beginning to consider it, but I don't think I'm fooling anybody.
It's hard to get used to how I look as I get older. I think we all feel this way, at least around a milestone birthday. Maybe when I turn 61 it won't hit me as hard. Some days I'm fine with how I look. Some days I'm not. That was true when I was 30.
Isn't age a surprise? All my life I've known it was happening yet it's still shocking to see the signs: the muscles of my upper arms as loosely defined as a boiled potato, the little bumps that appear in odd places and decide to stay, the wrinkles that deepen like windblown crevasses on the surface of Mars.
That last one is more reality than metaphor.
Wilma is unconcerned about age, although she has a milestone birthday coming up, too. She'll be 5 in June.