I am no longer a fifty something me! So that leaves me in a bit of a quandry as far as my little blog goes. Do I start a new one, which of course will be called, yes you’ve guessed it, A Sixty Something Me, or do I keep going with this one and change the strap line? Of course that would be a lot less hassle especially as the thought of all that techy stuff you have to do to change anything scares me, but then it’ll be confusing writing as a fifty something when I’m actually not! Oh what to do. Decisions, decisions!

One thing I’m going to do though is change the posts back to my ramblings rather than posting the chapters of my book as I write them. As much as I enjoyed popping them on here Mr R quite rightly pointed out that being available for anyone to read anywhere and everywhere in the world risked the tiny possibility that someone might like my storyline and write it as their own and I wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. So I’m afraid that if you were following Maggie’s adventure you’ll just have to wait until it’s finished and hopefully published, even if that means self publishing. One of my goals that I made when I turned 60 was to crack on with the book. Mr R wants to buy me a shiny new laptop for my birthday so I’ll no longer have to put up with a dodgy space bar which will make all the difference. Pity though that a new laptop won’t help me type any faster!

So here I am at 60. How on earth did that happen? My mum pointed out to me on my birthday that I was only 23 years younger than her and she’s 83. That somehow seems scarier than when she was 63 and I was 40. At 40, Mum being 63 didn’t seem so bad. She was busy, active and not long retired. Not much different from the 40 year old me really. But at 83 life has of course slowed down considerably for her and although her health is good it is not what it was. This will be me in 23 years time, and time flies so being 83 will be upon me in a blink of an eye. Without sounding as though I’m counting down the years now until I pop my clogs, I am aware that time is precious and sitting on one’s backside wasting it isn’t productive or rewarding in any way shape or form. I see being 60 as an exciting time with new goals and new intentions. So goodbye to the 50 something me and hello to the 60 me.Let’s get cracking with making the most of the next decade!

Before moving on I want to look back at my last decade. What has been it’s highlights and what’s been the low points?

Getting married to my Mr R has to be the best thing that happened to me in the last ten years. When my marriage fell apart in my late 40’s I was dubious if I’d have a long term relationship again, but along came this very tall man who wore lycra, had a classical music addiction and could do really hard maths! The day I met him I just knew he was ‘the one’ Our wedding was exactly how we wanted it and because we made it a small affair with lots of the traditional trappings missing, planning it was relaxed and stress free apart from the dress and a rather rude alterations seamstress. The dress I chose was my one regret. I should have listened to my mum and got something more appropriate for a plump 52 year old.

Watching both my boys graduate from university and being there for my eldest’s passing out parades were all such proud moments. My boys have grown into fine,thoughtful and caring men. Exactly what every parents hopes for of their offspring.

There was also my son’s wedding and the birth of his and his wife’s two children. Being a nanna is such a joy and I’m really looking forward to watching them grow and blossom and of course having lots of nanna cuddles.

Not so great was having to deal with a huge painful leg ulcer that appeared overnight and took three years to heal. A firm reason for why it happened has never been given. A rare autoimmune diagnosis was bandied about but I have always had my doubts that that was the correct one. Just as the ulcer finally healed I developed severe pneumonia and fluid on the lung probably caused by a compromised immunity due to the immuno-suppresents that I’d been taking. I was in ITU for two days. I remember very little of that time as I was confused and hallucinating for most of it. I was so poorly and had real issues breathing for the next week until they put in a chest drain. In all, I was in hospital for a month and only allowed to go home because they could trust me to self administer IV antibiotics.

For three years I had to have my leg dressed at my local surgery

Just as I thought everything was hunky dory my hair decided to fall out by the handful due to all the stress of being ill. My lovely thick hair was reduced to a whispy mess. That was heart breaking. Fortunately I had the most wonderful hairdresser who took charge of my hair and nursed it back to health.

So those were the biggy events of the decades.What about the other memorable things that happened? I discovered the WI and became very involved with its running. I’ve had some stick from friends about it, but that’s only because there’s misconception that its all about old ladies making jam and singing Jerusalam! I got to the third round of Bake Off, got Mr R on an airplane, discovered yoga and that I like to write. I’m also lucky to have wonderful supportive friends. Somethings haven’t changed since I hit 50. I’m still a teaching assistant despite saying every year that it will be my last.We still live in the house that still belongs to me and my ex despite saying we were going to move. I’m still too fat and I still think that buying clothes is a treat I don’t deserve. I exasperate Mr R with my dippiness and frustrate everyone with my unwillingness to drive beyond my very small comfort zone.

It was a busy and on the whole a pretty good decade but there has been times when I felt that I was coasting and not achieving as much as I’d like. I also had this constant feeling of ‘letting myself go’ and feeling dowdy and very beige. I have a weight problem which I haven’t addressed and I’m not active enough. If I want to keep healthy and feel good about myself then I, and only I, will have to get off my fat backside and do something about it.

This is not me! I would never, ever let anyone take a photo of me in my undies! But this could well beme!

I was going to mention my goals and intentions for my 60’s but that can wait until next time. Mr R is due home from work any minute and as he works away I like to be there to welcome him with a hug and a glass of something red. We may be classed as seniors (hooray for my railcard) but we haven’t reached the pipe and slipper stage yet!