Packing Archeology

It’s hard to think back to DOS, that  quick and Dirty Operating System I learned in the early 1980s, but I believe it was then I set up a  file (seems as if we called it something else then?) as a Packing List.  I’ve added to it over the years, never taken anything off.  And while I had resolved not to include too much “me” in the blog, this does seem an appropriate place to meditate on changes over the years. For some reason--no good reason, actually-- the first part of the list is alphabetized, and here are relics of the past:

Bathing suit:  Never again.  When my cousin Betty was 86, she said “nobody ever gets to see these legs again.”  I thought that was pretty drastic, now I agree completely.

Beach cover-ups:  Not necessary, see above.

Bras:  On my 80^th birthday I made three resolutions:  no more bras, I’ll never wear a skirt again, and I forget what the third was.  Full disclosure: about once a month, I’m sorry to say, there is an outfit that calls for a bra. Getting it on involves analytic geometry and considerable shoulder pain.

Business cards:  Doing is one thing, but marketing is another thing altogether. The best thing about writing is that one can do it sitting down.  For speaking engagements these days, or radio, there’s always a stool.  But marketing takes energy and one needs to be – as Norm said when taking on salespersons – hungry. No more ambition, no more business cards.  These days I hand out slips with the address of this blog.

Cosmetics:  Never again.  Beyond a bit of lipstick to cover some unpleasant spots that have somehow popped up on the lower lip, any further attempt would be comical. 


Took this in Bonaire, 1981

 C-card:  Never again.  At  55, I was inordinately proud of that just-earned Basic Diver Certification card.  Then on my 80^th birthday, took my 145^th open water dive and it turned out to be the final one.  Too aware of weakening muscles to enjoy the fish and the coral, glad a son and a  grandson were my buddies that day.

We’re not three inches down the Packing List, haven’t even reached the Ds, where we can cross off Diving Equipment (see above) and Dresses (also see above).  The no-more-dresses resolution I’ve never broken, not even for Abigail's fancy wedding, where to my relief one of the other grandmothers turned up in a pants suit too.
But as I’m opposed to long posts—and too much “me”—let’s leave the rest of the list for another day.