Aside from it being a perfect winter for downhill skiers---if they want to brave the bitter cold---another good thing about having a hard winter is the fact that the ice
sculpture contest contestants, this weekend, don’t have to worry about their huge
blocks of ice disappearing any time soon. In past years I’ve seen their slightly
melted creations as I pushed my husband’s wheelchair around a small tourist
town near-by but this year I planned to bundle up in my warmest clothes and I go
watch the carvers as they worked---twenty three sculptures created over two
days. If you’ve ever seen the Food Network’s Ice Brigade with Randy Finch and his crew you’ll know exactly who is
in town working their magic. These guys and gals are awesome!
On paper, the opening day looked perfect for me to get out
of the house---no new snow predicted. I had my wool socks, long gaiters, heaviest sweats, snowmobile
gloves and a hat laid out. I was looking forward to sipping free cocoa while watching
people play miniature golf on a course made entirely out of ice. I planned on sampling the quirky mash potato bar at
the olive oil store before wandering over to the chili cook off and the snowman
building contest in the park. Then I saw the morning news. Cars crashes and
spin offs all over the place. Icy roads between me and the contest. So I’ll be seeing
the sculptures and snowmen next week, after the ice festival is over. I’m calling
this the Winter of Disappointment. Not to worry. I’m getting used to it. I’m in
no danger of hanging myself from the rafters in the attic.
Saturday I had tickets to a country western show put on by the fire department. I haven’t been to one of these twice-a-year firefighters fundraisers
since Don passed away even though I continued buying tickets. In the back of my mind I kept thinking I’d connect with someone to
invite to go with me, but that hasn’t happened. This year, I decided to go
alone, to made it a widow’s work goal. But the temperatures never got high
enough for the road salt to work and there is a huge hill in between me and the
auditorium that is well known for its bumper car intersection at the bottom, so
I opted not to chance it. Color me disappointed. Our fire department guys are the ones who come to the
house when you call 911 and say, “X, Y or Z has fallen and can’t get back up.”
They’d been here many times when Don was still alive and they never charge, so
I will keep buying their tickets whether I go or not. However,
if we still have icy roads in July when their next show is scheduled I’m moving
to Fiji where I can tie myself to a tree during hurricane season. I’ve had
enough of the devil’s dandruff and his polar breath for one season, thank you
very much.
Switching gears, at one of my favorite blogs, As Time Goes By, there is a recent post titled Coming Out as Old. Reading it I learned that
to be politically correct I have to quit calling myself a senior citizen or
elderly. Instead, I have to use the words ‘elder’ or ‘old’ person. The idea is
that ‘elderly’ and ‘senior’ implies a fragile body and declining cognitive
abilities. Since I’ve been admonished in my off-line life not to call myself
‘elderly’ I found this discussion of labels very interesting. For some reason that
defies explanation I’d rather be elderly than old but I also like the title,
‘elder.’ I guess it's all in the perceptions the labels conjure up in our heads. Many if not most people my age are not frail or have declining abilities---I get
that point, I really do---but what about those who are? Do we have to find a
new label that covers them? Or do we just get out our bag of adjectives and say, “She’s a fragile old person" or "she's flaky old
person”? Given a choice between ‘elderly’ and ‘a fragile' or 'flaky' old person I’d
rather be elderly. Ohmygod, I need a pie chart to sort this all out! In the meantime, I am officially now the elder in my tribe of one here on
Widowhood Lane. ©
It has been a tough winter for sure!!! and snowing again tonight. Personally, I don't like any of those "old" labels. My doctor calls "us"- "seasoned citizens"--I think I would rather be called "wise" instead of elderly. "here comes that wish woman,", rather than, "here comes that elderly woman." and do not ever call me a crone!!!
ReplyDelete'Crone' isn't even in my vocabulary, so you won't hear that from me. LOL We'd all love to be called 'wise' but that isn't age specific and just because we get older we don't all get wiser. 'Seasoned citizen' is great! I'd vote for that.
DeleteAwkward Widow: I am so, so sorry but I accidentally deleted your comment and I can't get it back! I'm dyslexia and I blame it on that. I do remember that you mentioned 'honored citizen' as an alternative to senior citizen and that was actually mentioned in the blog I wrote about. I guess there is a movement trying to get more businesses to use it.
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