I started thinking today as I unwrapped a packet of fresh kitchen rolls that there was a time years ago when kitchen rolls didn’t exist. I was a child in my mother‘s kitchen. If we spilt something we reached for a dish cloth. Why don’t we do that now? What’s happened to us as we have grown? Have we got lazier? Or have we just got caught up in the times that we live in. We don’t actually need kitchen roll. We managed perfectly well without. And all of that has made me think that I’ll start a blog about getting older, about how time has changed life, changed our lives, and considering whether it’s changed the people that we are.
Next year I will be 70. I can remember when I started at secondary school and I saw the sixth formers. They didn’t seem like schoolgirls to me. They were women. And I thought I’m simply not going to live long enough to become like they are. A childish thought of course. For here I am, way past being a schoolgirl. Sometimes I catch a glimpse in the bathroom mirror, and I do a double take at the vision. I think, who on earth is that old lady? Then I realise it’s me. And I can’t get used to that. Sometimes I look down at my hands, and I don’t recognise them as mine anymore. The swollen arthritic joints, the change in the skin. And I find myself asking who is me? Is it me inside, and if so, what is this outer covering that seems to taunt me?
I’ve no idea where this blog will take me. I remember beginning one just before the lockdown of 2020 and I did it almost religiously every day and I did derive a great deal of pleasure from doing so. I don’t know whether many people read it or not. And the same will go for this one. I’m not a great one for projecting myself on social media so……time will tell.
