With apologies to the person who originally had this thought and whose name I forgot to copy, studies show that paying attention to one’s breath alleviates stress, and that we should breathe through our nose because it is more calming and allows our lungs to extract oxygen more efficiently.

Try this: Take a deep breath and exhale slowly.  (Ideally, according to my unrecorded source, we should only take 5-6 breaths a minute.)

I tested my normal breathing as I wrote this, and in one minute I took 17 breaths. ☹

It looks like I’ve got some work to do.

80-something year olds are thought to be unable to adapt to new technologies.  I’d like to think I am an exception. but I was disabused of that notion when I finally decided to replace my five-year old phone.

The salesperson told me my new i-Phone was not all that different than my old phone.  Well, it may be that I have changed more than the i-Phone, but it wasn’t so easy for me.

Thus, I found myself at the Apple store Genius Bar on a rainy Saturday morning for a beginner’s class.  It turns out that in my ten days of owning the phone, I had learned a few fundamentals, so I was a bit ahead of the only other student, a female of my generation.

Nonetheless, I learned a few more basics and some tricks that I will probably never use.

Unfortunately, there is no higher-level class so until I see a grandchild…

I’m on my own.

I usually see a look of disbelief when I tell people that I just turned 87.  My “youthful appearance” comes from healthy eating, rigorous exercise, good genes and good luck.

But I am eighty-seven.

Having been forced to move from a failing apartment building in December to my current not-ideal situation, I am thinking about what’s next.  I’m leaning toward an independent apartment in a community of like-minded residents where I could have addition help if I needed it.

Stay tuned.

It’s now exactly three-and-one-half years since my husband Peter died.  I still miss him every day.

But missing him got much worse one recent night.  I was sitting on my living room sofa when I thought I saw something move into my line of vision and quickly disappear in the kitchen.  Seconds later, that something ran across the kitchen floor.  A mouse!!

And what does the typical woman do when she sees a mouse— she calls her husband.

If she has one…

In a rare moment of trying to de-clutter my life, I read part of a journal I kept in1990.   A post-Thanksgiving entry that year read as follows:

“No matter when a child leaves, no matter for how long, I have the same wrenching feeling in my stomach. 

It’s an ache of emptiness.  It probably was there when I left them at nursery school at age three.  It definitely was there when each of them at fifteen went off for a summer, one to Kenya, two years later the other to Sweden and Russia.

The amazing thing is that within 48 hours, everything is OK.  The quiet house becomes the norm again.

The first wrenching pain had been their births.  The first of many…”

This 80-something looks at three newspapers every day:  The Boston Globe, The New York Times and The Washington Post. In the seventeen years of writing this blog, I think the Washington Post article linked below is the only article I have recommended to my subscribers.

It is the story about a young teacher whose sister died in a 2014 car crash.  The sister’s purse, found in the wreckage, contained over $100 in tips that she had receive in her waitress job that day.  The teacher decided to use the money to honor her sister’s memory, as described in “Teacher Gives $20 to Her Students with One Rule:  Use It for Kindness.” 

I suspect you also will want to share this story.

You can read it at bit.ly/3G424EI (copy this into your browser)

When I took my 2016 Toyota for its probably-overdue check-up, I expected that there would be sticker-shock when I saw the bill.

I was correct.

What I did not expect was the “free” on-site manicurist added to the waiting lounge since my last visit.  Of course, I signed up.  When my turn came, the manicurist was very pleasant and did a good job, so I left her a nice tip.

When the service people called to tell me that the car checkup was over, but I needed a new battery and three new tires at what sounded like an outrageous cost, I decided my local gas station could do better. I paid the basic fee, and thanked the nice receptionist.

The tires will be cheaper at the gas station, but alas, no manicure included.

It’s been almost four months since the naturally occurring retirement community (NORC) where I had lived happily for six years, was forced to vacate its 1960’s-building with only four weeks’ notice because of newly-discovered structural problems that could not be repaired.

Now, with a one-year lease in a quickly-chosen, pleasant apartment that lacks a real community, I am actively searching for my next “adventure.”  It is said that of life's stressful events, only death and divorce are more difficult than moving.

I'll take moving over one and two anytime.

When I was a child, my mother’s five siblings would each send me a $5.00 check for my birthday.  I don’t recall how many years that money kept coming, but it paid for a substantial part of a trip to Europe that I took after my junior year in college.

My then 20-year-old self was awestruck by Paris’ majestic Notre Dame Cathedral.

I thought about that trip the other day when I attended a wonderful talk by an architectural historian about the dreadful Notre Dame fire in April 2019 and her connection with its restoration.  She showed slides of herself in hazmat gear high in the rafters (supported by extremely tall scaffolding) as she advised on this monumental project.  President Macron had insisted Notre Dame be restored to its 1345 glory, and although finishing touches are still underway, the major work is complete, and Notre Dame is glorious once more.

The “before” in 1958 was très beautiful.  But now, seeing it pictured in all its restored beauty made me want to fly off to Paris.

As a service to 80-something readers I advise that you order your timed-entry ticket in advance.

My (and Peter’s) idea of a perfect evening out was a late afternoon movie with friends followed by dinner in an ethnic restaurant, often Chinese.  But between the debut of Covid, and the vast number of movies available on TV, I tend to watch movies on my sofa.  Which brings me to “Anora”. 

Winner of five academy awards, including best picture and best actress, it was a must-see. So, I watched with a friend the other night.

To our surprise, neither of us liked it. Nor did three other friends who told me they had seen it.  But a fourth friend who actually knows something about movies—

She loved it.