Friday, December 16, 2011

I hope the water isn't too cold.

Writing and posting on a newly-created blog for the first time is, I feel, rather like edging your way slowly, step by step, along a diving board. At the end of the board there is no turning back - you have to jump.
Will you make a big splash, or one that nobody even notices?
Will you remember on the way down that you can't actually swim very well?
Will the water be cold, tepid or warm?
Will that hunky lifeguard be there, waiting with open arms?
Get a grip, Grandma. It;s only a blog.
Here goes.....


I always told myself that when I finally became - it's hard to say this - old - I would not turn into an old crone. Some things are unavoidable - cataracts, skirts and pants with elastic waistbands, shoes with Velcro fastenings, losing things, text that has unaccountably become fainter and smaller than it used to be. Some amazing people seem to keep their shapes and their looks far longer than Nature intended, but the day comes when everything crumbles and collapses at once and you realise that it is probably better to let things change gradually.

Ever since my hair gradually became a rather fetching shade of white, I have loved the colour purple - as you can see.





And the following poem just about sums up my feelings on ageing outrageously -

When I am an old woman, I shall wear purple
with a red hat that doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
and satin candles, and say we've no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I am tired
and gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
and run my stick along the public railings
and make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
and pick the flowers in other people's gardens
and learn to spit.

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
and eat three pounds of sausages at a go
or only bread and pickles for a week
and hoard pens and pencils and beer nuts and things in boxes.

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
and pay our rent and not swear in the street
and set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.
But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.


This lovely poem was written in 1961 by Jenny Joseph. I haven't yet learned to spit, but I have embarrassed my daughter often enough by singing along to the Muzak in supermarkets and department stores...

16th December 2011

14 comments:

  1. You are off to a good start... hope you like the font color!

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  2. I'm looking forward to the next installment! Well done. Auntie Nora eat your heart out!

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  3. Very nice! Echoes my own sentiments, and today, I am wearing -purple!!

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  4. Very amusing Ange. I will keep reading as long as you keep writing! xx

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  5. Keep them coming Ange. Well done Jo xx

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  6. Way to go Granny !!!! Can't wait to hear more Ange, you certainly don't sit still...

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  7. Congratulations, its great. Looking forward to the next installment (or is there a computer word for that too ? lol)...
    Have a fantastic Christmas Angela and all the best to you and yours. x

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  8. in the words of Maurice Chevalier
    ''am I getting old ?''
    ''oh no, not you''

    And well yes, we remember it well......or at least, the funny bits and the gossipy bits and generally the good time had by all bits - and what else could possibly matter!
    But hey, as for purple I might have to pass - just doesn't work with the scarlet lippy - but then, that might just be the point!
    Lots of love as always, Lynda xx

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  9. Welcome to blogland I am a friend of Alexandra's!!.....when I grow old I will also give my hair a purple rinse...will you??? hahhahaha

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  10. Lovely Poem, not quite there yet age wise, but have also managed to embarrass the daughter in supermarkets with my personal rendition of the Muzak!

    Anyway forget the mirrors, feeling young is enough for me!!

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  11. One difference from the poem, dearest Angie - I don't recall you being that sober in your (or should I say our) - youth! But I have thousands of photographs and lots of things in boxes! Love, Gill

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  12. Keep it up Ange! And keep on 'wearing purple' whether in reality or metaphorically.
    And, like 'anonymous', I too remember our less than sober youth! (It's the only kind to have)
    Have a great Christmas and a wonderful New Year.
    and KEEP ON WRITING!
    Love Jill x

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  13. Angela I never seem to bump into you on my visits but as soon as I started reading this blogg I thought to myself this sounds like Angela's writing - days of reading Aunty Nora in The Corfiot... I hope this finds you well and a happy 2012. Hopefully our paths will colide one fine days.

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  14. Lin from Upminster (now Emerson Park) lolJanuary 11, 2012 at 6:28 PM

    Great to keep in touch Ang or should I say Grandma! Keep writing you defo have a natural tallent for blogging - a 'wordsmith' of the first order!!
    All love Lin and family from Blighty! xx

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