Check out Anne's new blog, The Clock Stops Here. I'm not going to try to live to extreme old age. I'm not going to try to look young when I'm not (but I am young and that's why I look that way and will continue to look that way). Nobody needs to see my belly button. The only tattoos I'll be getting are ones to duplicate or mimic body parts and features that have dropped below the horizon, so to speak. And I'm not going to work hard at anything, because what's the point of that?

But I'm not going to throw my health away. A friend of mine said people in my family live to be the age of giant sequoias. May as well be in shape to enjoy however many years I'll get in this forest.

Amen.

My grandma had one of those kitchen clocks with the moving eyes. I remember sitting at her linoleum covered table in the kitchen as a kid, drinking milk, watching it watching me. Beady cat eyes moving back and forth. Toothy feline smile. Tail swinging.

I'm afraid that devil clock would have kept me out of the kitchen! (These days, that might not be a bad thing.)