'Happy birthday to me, happy etc to me, today I'm sixty three, I'm happy as can be, and I'm busy as a bee, happy birthday etc.'
It's been a good day so far. Ever since I recovered from depression (that's two and something years ago) I've felt strongly like Oscar Wilde's Portrait of Dorian Grey. Maybe I'm lucky. I'm sixty-three but look two. Husband similarly. He's a hundred and five next birthday and looks five. The point is, why do the majority of people over the age of sixty/seventy wear grey/brown/blue? Wear baggy crimplene trousers? Aaargh! Baggy tops? Sensible granny shoes? Don't get it. The older I'm getting, the more adventurous I'm growing, and I like it. 🙂
'Oh, I'm too old for that.' Assert reasonably fit people aged sixty plus, referring to - not bungy jumping - but sledging, as an example. What? You gotta be kidding?? (We love sledging). Thankfully I'm VERY strong minded. My mother was and my daughter is. No probs. I'm gonna reach at least ninety and drive a jeep across a desert with my equally ancient Husband. Just see if we don't. 😀