Sixty seven reasons why...

getting old isn't that bad...

You can go knickerless and folks think you've lost your 

marbles along with your drawers

grey hair likes purple hair chalk

you can trump and being deaf pretend you haven't heard it

Say outrageous things with ne'er a care

Come on strong with young men knowing they won't

think you really mean it...

Oh how wrong they can be!

Go bra-less without fear of men walking into lamp posts

giving you the eye

Shimmy into a shift thinking the straight cut

hides the podge underneath

Wear platform shoes...

these orthopaedic jobbies aren't so bad

Wide feet suddenly seem an asset...

they anchor you to the ground when too many

Babychams have been partaken of

Elasticated trousers live the dream, cushion the load...

comfort is the order of the day

Linen... the cloth of ages...

au naturel... matches the wrinkles of a life well lived...

the iron lives to smooth another day

Arrange flowers and think yourself...
Constance 'Spry'...
'Trex' would be nearer the truth...
(Those of a certain age will get it)

Shake the mop in the cupboard without your mother
saying...
'What an earth are you doing Linda?'

Wipe the washing line with the hem of your frock

Explain...
'This is a haven for wildlife!'
as guests have to duck under the cobwebs hanging
like gossamer swags from the ceiling

ditto...
dead tights hanging over the edge of the bath...
"An emergency exit for spiders, don't you know!'

Snifferly scorning the drunken youth of today
on your 26th Sauvignon Sundowner of the day

Demanding in imperious tones
'More canapes, my man!'
(Cheesey Wotsits)

Only checking your appearance in the
most flattering mirror in the house

No need for eyeshadow...
you have home grown shadow
alright, it's under the eye...
but no worries

For thrifts-sake working your way back
through the many and various impulse
foundation purchases, finally arriving
at Pan Stick

Making an alchemist's mix of
the freebie perfume samples,
walking through the sprayed mist, arriving over
the other side, smelling like...
Well, frankly nothing on earth
(cheap and thrifty)

Plucking...
now there's a word...
did you ever realise all those years
ago you could make a friend of
your tweezers

It seems like forever you await the curse
to fly off to pastures new, and
then what happens...
it leaves you a constant reminder of
just exactly what you've lost...
a face free of hair,
moisture... in all departments...
I could go on...
best not!

Change...
you naively thought that you
did that at stations

Women glow...
Oh no they don't, they sweat...
by the bucket-load

Moles... why do they
suddenly take a fancy to
the warmth of the divide of
bosoms?
Some sort of joke that is,
perhaps it should be
Father Nature not Mother Nature

Liver spots, blood-shot eyes, creaky bones,
bunions, corns, hard-skin
a plethora of excitements of
the ageing kind

Bingo-wings... the 
must-have of this decade

I've got to thirty...
I think I'll go and have a lie-down

Only thirty seven more to go...
Feel free to help me by adding to the list...
lest I forget!