We have enough youth.

How about a fountain of Smart?

As we enter an election cycle (and it's WAY too long) this seems particularly appropriate. The older I get, the more I realize how much I miss the Good Old Days. It feels like we've lost all civility, common sense, and old-fashioned goodness.

Take book banning -- common sense tells anyone that if a child wants to find *that* book, he/she will find it. Why ban it? Why not have the child read the book then sit down and discuss the 'disturbing' elements with the child. That helps a kid be better prepared to face the world, because sure as sh*t the kid will meet *those* people in the world.

Book banning strikes close to home for me because one woman's porno is another woman's romance.

Who decides? It shouldn't be those in power. It should be up to the individual.

Pain and suffering are inevitable ...

 ...but misery is optional.

This has always sort of been my motto (that and "Often wrong but never in doubt"). 

Let's face it, at some point we'll hit a bump, we'll be derailed, we'll hit a pothole. Life Will Be Tough. I'm not saying that we need to laugh at our ills, but I try to take it in stride. None of us are getting out of here alive so we should try to enjoy every minute we're here as far as we can.

And yeah, I wake up some days and lay in bed and think "okay, this isn't good, my back hurts so much I don't know if I can move." And then I move, and I moan, and I groan, and I move some more and pretty soon the OTC painkiller kicks in and before I know it I'm at the gym working on that Underarm FlipFlop machine and I guess I'll live another day.

Misery is optional. Unless you're outside in mosquito weather and you forgot your bug spray. 

Then Misery really is Us.

We would worry far less about what people think of us

 ..., if we realized how seldom they really do.

I am reminded of this every swimsuit season. How many people worry about how they look in that swimsuit or those shorts or that top? It took me a long time to say "the hell with it" and to wear what I want to wear.

I try to look good in what I wear, but really, I'm older and it is what it is. There are saggy bits and there are bouncy bits. I try very hard not to over-expose what I have but I'm not going to cover it all up, either, not when it's 80 degrees in the shade and humid.

I mean, really -- nobody cares what I look like, right?

Where am I going?

 And what am I doing in this handbasket?

That's how it feels sometimes -- I swear, where does the time go and where does life take me? I have some friends who are having medical issues, and I've been trying to help, but it's tough. Sometimes life does just take unexpected turns.

I suppose that's why I love to write novels. When I'm in the middle of writing, I'm somewhere else. It's not always a Happy somewhere else, but it takes me away from where I am. I can always switch my brain into "what would my characters be doing now" mode.

Ah yes. Writing. A lifeline for people like me.

Talk is cheap...

 ...because supply exceeds demand.

This seems so appropriate on this, an election day.

I always mute the TV when political ads come on. I don't care who they are: Mute. I also don't read any political junk sent to me. I do read the newspaper, but I don't delve deeply into politics. I don't trust politicians and I don't trust news people. We no longer have a Walter Cronkite or Harry Reasoner to trust.

I abhor the direction where our country is sliding. I hate the underbelly that was exposed by Trump (yes, those supporters are deplorable). My feelings for many family members changed when they came out in support of him and I can never go back to the happy acceptance of them.

You see, I thought we all had the same values but we don't. And I just can't compromise on that. This isn't about a single topic (abortion, voting rights, taxes). It's about basic human decency. 

Yep, talk is cheap. Actions speak the loudest.

Age is a high price to pay

 ... for maturity.

There are times when I feel every minute of my 70 years, and this week is one of those times. To start with, I fell down -- hard -- on a hardwood floor and that resulted in bruises and some creaks and groans. I also have a continuing problem with severe leg cramping (no one knows why), and that's come back. I had a month or two of no cramping at night, but it's back with a vengeance.

Whenever I complain like this, I think of those people who have lived with chronic pain of any kind, be it mental or physical, all their lives and it makes me pause. I know my pains are temporary or can be solved with a bit of medication. What would it be like to never have the sense that the pain might go away?

::shudder::

Everyone has a photographic memory.

 Some don't have film.

Of course, this doesn't apply anymore, does it? No one uses film, right? I don't know about you, but now that I take photos with my phone, I take way too many photos. You have to say this for old film cameras: I used to stage my photographs a lot better than I do now because I knew it would cost me money to develop that picture.

That's true of many things nowadays. So much is disposable. I think about that as I do some crocheting in the evenings. I donate everything I make and I don't begrudge the effort I put into it. I know some people won't value the blanket or shawl I make, but that's okay. I'm doing it for myself as much as for them. I like listening to books as I sew, so it's a win-win for me. If someone considers what I'm doing as disposable, well, I guess that's okay.