Sitting around, pondering the problems of the world, I realised that at my age I don't really give a tinker's curse anymore.

If walking is good for your health, the postman would be immortal. A whale swims all day, only eats krill, drinks filtered - fluke water, and is the largest critter in the sea. Boy, are they fat!

A rabbit runs and hops and only lives 15 years, while a tortoise doesn't run and does mostly nothing. And yet it lives for 150 years. And we are told to exercise? Nope, not this old hush-puppy. Now that I am in the winter of my years, here's what I've discovered:

I started out with nothing, and I still have most of it. My wild oats are mostly enjoyed with prunes and all-bran.
Funny, I don't remember being absent-minded. If all is not lost, then where the heck is it?

It was a whole lot easier to get older than it was to get wiser. Some days you're the top-dog, other days you are the hydrant.
I wish the buck really did stop here, I sure could use a fistful of dollars.

Kids in the backseats cause accidents; and backseats cause kids. It sure is hard to make a comeback when you haven't been anywhere.
The world will only beat a path to your door when you are in the bathroom. Speaking of bathroom, I have a permanent booking for the throne.

If God wanted me to touch my toes, he'd have put them on my knees. Just because I only have one set of toes, I still can't bend down to touch my foot.
When I'm finally holding all the cards at the respite home, everyone wants to play chess. I love playing chess, but I get the King and Queen mixed up.

It's not hard to meet expenses; they're everywhere.
The only difference between a rut and a grave is the depth. I think I'll become a crispy critter, that way I can be poured into a very large egg-timer and be turned over every time you want me to work after I pass over to the Big Man in the sky.

Who said sitting under the Golden Arches was the best time of our lives? The only Golden Arches that I know of, is McDonalds. At least people of our age get a free ice-cream or a cup of brown, muddy-water, called cappuccino. Please apply for your Senior's Card.

These days I spend a lot of time thinking about the hereafter. I go somewhere to get something, and then wonder what I'm "here after."
Some kindly folks offer me a helping hand. I wonder why? I don't need a hand, I need a new foot!
My figure has changed over the years; sagging so much my boobs play a tune on my knees.

Mirrors? I don't have them anymore; they frighten me. Who is that person in the mirror? I would rather look at a 1970 photo when I was young and vital. Now I'm not vital, just wrapped in wrinkles.

Now, there is my writing. I love poems and telling you stories about Australia. Where is it again? Down Under they call it. Down under what? I'll just keep writing about our Dreamtime (suits me better because I nod off at the thought of being awake.)

They tell me my fingers are like sausages? That's how arthritis is described. I'm teaching my dog to fetch my undies because he can find things better than me.

My electric recliner has a permanent bump in it - me. Television is just to keep me awake, funnily enough, it puts me to sleep. I think I might watch the advertising, more interesting than the movies. Although the movies from 1940 to 1950 catch my eye, I don't get blinded by colour.

Just as well I can touch-type, everything electronic is black these days, at least I remember what key will work for my writing. My dear-old dad said to me one day "you go to bed young and wake-up old," he was spot on. I didn't understand him when I was young, I sure do now.

Oh, well, I think I will take my wooden-leg off and go take a nana-nap. Arthur always accompanies me to bed and he is with me all day (that old bastard called arthritis.) I'm sure he knows you too?

Funny, I don't remember being absent-minded. It is a lot better to be seen than viewed.
Have I written this message to you before? Or did I get it from you? Go well young Fanstorians, one day you will be in my ball park!