Whilst Don and I were driving around town this morning, a little flashbulb turned on inside my head... that perhaps my very angry sister Mrs Plastic Fantastic (thanks CS) who is very computer literate and as she says "I know all about life..." (truelly she said that) ...well I figured it wouldn't be all that hard for such as she and her little urban crew to pick up on this blog, because I just typed in my own name and as I'd left it on the bottom of one of my stories...it came up on Google...the whole blog...

Hm thought I... there's about four very wicked pictures with attendant truths attached... and although the truth never hurt anyone...she is such that it might get to financially hurt me and mine... and our dog and cat like to eat well, as do we...

so although I was going to fib and say I'd decided to get all sweet and syrupy as a new Years Resolution... and curdle in your bloodstream...I figured truth is best. So I have deleted four of my favourite posts...

yeah sure there's freedom of speech but who wants to hand over dollars to someone who would just spend it all at the gym, or under the surgeons Knife?

We had the neighbours cows break into our yard this morning and rounding them up in my men's night shirt and thongs at 6am well thats much more fun than going to any gym in shiny spandex at 50 plus... and paying for it.

I am probably getting a bit opinionated in my old age, but I reckon if you've got the time to spend a whole hour, plus the time getting there and back...and if you feel the need to move about and be active...join a voluntary organisation and offer free of charge to do the grocery shopping for an aged pensioner who is unable or has no car...or do "meals on Wheels" do anything but give back to society...

I know its a free country but even keeping in touch with old relatives who may not have anyone at all, takes time and energy, but its free... then you can be cranky for the rest of the week if you want and revel in it.

And if you don't have the need to be too active, just being a cheerful sod and nice to young mums with four kids who have to work all day nursing and then go home and work again, and have empathy for why they might be feeling like shit behind that bed pan or counter top.

But don't be nice at all to that Attilla who punched Amy out for taking a photo of that bit of flotsam with a big price tag... she's just a pig and she deserves all life throws up on her.

So no nice and syrupy new years resolutions from me... I rather like to imagine I may continue to grow old disgracefully...maybe some have read this poem... its going to suit more than one of us as we grow older.

"The Warning
( a poem featured in the book "When I am Old I Shall Wear Purple" )
When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm 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 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 goOr only bread and pickles for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beer mats 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.
Jenny Joseph