Tuesday, February 25, 2014


Little children call people like me ‘the Wrinklies.’ My arm hurts this morning after throwing a few snowballs with grandchildren. My wife speculates about attending the 2022 Olympics in Oslo, Norway, our daughter in law’s home country and factors in that we will require travel companions because we will be close to 80 years of age. Already my ears ring as though I am standing in the centre of an electrical generator and my eyes contend with a universe of floating bodies that impair my sight. I wake predictably at 4:00 am, eager to write, to paint, to read and even after two cups of bold coffee, I am ready for a nap by 9 am. I am my father, married to my mother in law, because my wife is her mother.


  1. Wrinkles, you say? When talking to someone, I seem to look at people's eyes.....they are the windows of the soul, right? A person's voice is the second thing I notice - and in just a few seconds it is often clear whether it is a conversation which I would like to continue (or not). Wrinkles - not so important!! Funny thing is that when we get to Heaven, we will likely be wrinkle-free......but chances are very likely we won't give them a thought. Funny thing - eh?
    When looking into the mirror, (through those lovely floaters you refer to), I tell myself God loves me - it sure makes me smile, and then the wrinkles that are evident are happy ones, and that's okay with me. Chin up Ron, do you remember when wrinkle dolls were all the rage - now that's better - smile! Mary V

    1. Mary, wrinkle free indeed, what a prospect, and as you say, then, that will be the furthest thing from our consciousness, since so much more from which we shall be free will have liberated us know life as we have never known it.