A Seventyish Woman

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The Almanac Says Winter’s Back is Broken. Sounds Cruel to This Seventyish Woman.

Poor old winter barely gets started and people are wishing him ill health

I know I will regret all the mean things I said about Winter as soon as July hits Maine. I moved to Maine to escape the soggy summers of New Jersey. I hate the heat and humidity and can get behind a climate that is mostly mud and dampness and wood stove weather, as long as it’s not hot for too long. I love it that you still have to run the woodstove into June and that sometimes there is a bit of freezing weather at the end of August. Of course, with climate change, the nature of the “normal” seasons is changing and I will be faced with the choice of getting over it or moving further north.

You Will Definitely Miss Out if You Never Get to Know This Legendary South Jersey Bayman, One of a Kind, Nicknamed Hodaddy

Would you want your husband called “ho” for short?

First, about the name

I never paid much attention to this strange nickname. Some of his clammer friends, men Don worked with in the bay, began calling him Hodaddy and I figured it was just some form of male bonding weirdness. Probably thinking it was related to a hoe, just another tool for digging clams? Who knows? I didn’t really care what he was called by his male friends — locker room talk, right? Besides, I rarely worried about his morals. Don was and is a good person. And I love him.

Despite Lofty Goals, This Seventyish Woman Finds Herself in the Middle of the Comfort Food Aisle

I’m wandering around looking for the closest exit

Ok, so I overate in all categories last night. We were invited to our friends’ house for supper. I was in need of some fun and had an extra glass of wine, then another, then ate half the box of ice cream. (As my hosts looked on aghast?) That was Jean in party mode. Now it’s over and I need to move on. After seventy-some years, I have accumulated some experience and wisdom about this situation. I no longer waste time beating myself up for food already eaten. I try to figure out a way to help myself.

All This Seventyish Woman Wants of February, Besides Light and Love, is a Little Something to Get Excited About

Somebody asked for more memoir

Someone said once that February is a month cut short a few days because by the end of it you don’t think you could stand another freaking day. I won’t go that far. February has been OK so far. Snowy, icy cold, boring, not much to do outside, not much to get excited about. But, I don’t think it’s exactly the fault of the month. Besides if I continue in this vein, I may end up wishing the rest of the year away.

I just wish I had something exciting to look forward to. Like a vacation. Or a new

If You Love Colors or Are Color-Sensitive You Can Use Them as a Resource for Improving Your Mood, Managing Your Eating, and Helping You Reach Your Goals

More from a Seventyish Woman

I find that I am eating better this week. Yesterday we gave the remaining cookies to the birds, put the candy away, and gave away the second half of my only stollen this year to a good friend. Despite my sincere intentions to stop eating the wrong stuff and to give things away whenever I had the opportunity, I found myself almost mourning the loss of this little fruit-and-nut-studded half-a-loaf. What is up with that? Giving bread to a friend needn’t be painful, but it felt that way. The Stollen I make at Christmas is a symbol of the joys of the season, is carefully sliced and presented, mainly from me to me, as a treat each morning of the holiday.

What the Heck is There Worth Saying About January Anyway?

This seventyish woman tried to think of ten things but only came up with eight

I have always enjoyed celebrating each new month and season. I like to mark the start of something, maybe it’s just a small excuse to celebrate. Recently, I have been paying extra attention to the changing of the seasons because of a new writing project I’m involved with. So, writing about each month as it arrives has been a thing. But darned if I felt inspired to write about January.

Daily Practice: December is Time for Reflection About the Details

Time to take stock of 2021 and plan for 2022

I searched for many years for a spiritual practice, not realizing that my love of playing music on the piano could provide this for me. Now they have become one and the same. I can see benefits in my spiritual growth as well as my piano playing from this habit. I practice the piano not as a chore but as a devotion. The act of doing it day after day is a gift for myself and the world. Through the very concrete act of gradually building my skills with music, I am learning to know myself better. The practice gives me the chance to push toward goals, to try and fail, and get back up again, over and over. To treat my struggles with patience and kindness. To be grateful for my opportunities and accept my limitations.

I Have to Tell You About my Recent Success — Not for Me, but for You

I have just achieved a dream, and it wasn’t that hard

I am anxious to tell you this story because, two years ago, I would never have thought it would happen. Because many of you, particularly at this age, are gently setting aside your childhood dreams and sinking into old age without getting any closer to realizing them. Because the inertia of our everyday lives is a powerful force that can keep us going in the same direction ad infinitum.

I changed one little thing and the whole world opened up to me. I hope you will find some inspiration to do the same in your lives.

My poet story

A Seventyish Woman Suggests Three Ways You Can be More Content and Stop Postponing Happiness During the Holidays

Are You Pinning Too Much on a Holiday?

I suppose it happens to everyone as they get older. You realize that Christmas or your birthday or whatever occasion used to be so important to you is really an illusion. It is just one day. Perhaps you become jaded, decide you don’t really care about it. You’d rather not get excited since it’s just going to end soon. I would like to propose an alternate way of approaching the holidays. In fact, you can use this approach every day, not just on special days.

Warning From a Seventyish Woman — Five Ways You Should Never Start a Sentence

These can send you sliding down a slippery slope to old age

It’s bad enough that everyone under fifty thinks we are senile, helpless, and boring. Sometimes, all we have to keep us going is our own belief in ourselves. It is critical that older people take care of themselves emotionally as well as physically. We need to care about our needs, our priorities, our values, our desires and take steps to honor them. This is our job, especially at this age. If we abandon ourselves, look out!

A Conventional Husband is Highly Overrated – So Who’s Complaining After 52 Years?

Yes, it’s usually me

Yes, I know. I have much to be grateful for. I complain more than I ought. Just because my beloved dances around the house pumping his arms back and forth across his chest like some demented wind-up toy. Or gives away everything he gets. Or requests NO gifts for Christmas or birthdays. Or wears the same clothes for decades. It’s not so much to bear.

What is the Meaning of Life? Am I Finally Ready to Give up on This Question?

In my Seventies, I have different priorities

I don’t like that I haven’t figured out the meaning of life yet. I’ve already put a lot of work into this problem—how to understand life and suffering and why people have to die and what happens after death. Or what to do about any of it.

What is it About November That Chills the Blood?

A Seventyish Woman watches the dark ascend.

Every day in November, night bites off another chunk of daylight until barely nine hours remain. The sun takes its time rising and then hurries back under the cover of the tree line in the late afternoon, as if afraid to remain exposed too long. Birds gang up on the feeders, eating for their lives, a survival skill learned generations ago. Flowers are mostly dead and gone; leaves already fallen.

The Greatest Challenge is to Remain Attentive and Practice Effectively Through the Entire Hour

I succeed some of the time

I have always had ”a touch of the ADHD”. Plus I am 72 and have a lot of things, information and emotions and memories, stuffed into my brain. Paying attention when I only have one precious hour to play the piano is always difficult but is critical to my success. My most challenging task is to find ways to ensure that I am learning what I need to learn during each portion of the hour. Not daydreaming about being discovered or becoming enraptured by the gorgeous sounds I am making or wandering off on a memory, even a nice one. They call this “teaching the piano.”

Daily Practice: About the Value of Spending an Hour a Day on Something Important to You

Now I will see how well a series works on Medium

Every day. Even if I’m tired, or busy or angry or sad, no matter what is going on, I schedule an hour, or the best part of one, to practice the piano. I’ve been thinking about writing about this little – but consequential –habit for four years now. I started to do that with the Medium Series but now that the series function was discontinued I am here. I hope to give my readers some value in talking about this one-hour-a-day thing which has been so helpful to me.

5 Habits To Set You Up For Contentment in Your Senior Years

Photo by Ayo Ogunseinde on Unsplash

Sure, you’re not that old yet. But with any luck, you will be one day. These are some ideas for you to ponder along with planning your financial retirement package and your bucket list.

Satisfaction with your life starts with health

One study I read recently looked at the life satisfaction of very elderly people, people in their nineties who were of sound mind. Here is what the participants themselves believed made them satisfied, or not, with their lives:

Results showed that health and an emotionally stable personality were, independently of other factors, the most important factors for life satisfaction among the very old.


Five Common Habits That Lower Your Chance of Satisfaction in Your Senior Years

Jean Anne FeldeisenOct 15 · 10 min read

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hoto by Paris Lopez on Unsplash

My mother, Milly, died a few months ago. Granted, things were none too satisfactory in the last two of the 95 years that she lived. But, overall, for a good part of her older life, Milly was satisfied with her life. When I would ask her if she was happy she would say, Yes, I am. After all, I’m not really in any serious pain. I hardly ever have any problems sleeping, I have a nice house my husband built for me. I have a wonderful family and I get to eat fried eggs every morning for breakfast if I want to. I’m content.

A Seventyish Woman is written from the perspective of an older woman who is still full of life. She may or may not be retired but she is excited about this next phase of life: to explore new possibilities, muse about the changes constantly taking place, and celebrate her wisdom, beauty and power.

What Does a Seventyish Woman Who Has Been Married Fiftyish Years to a Man Who Adores Her Cooking Do When She’s Sick to Death of Cooking?

When running away is not an option.

I suppose I could don a disguise and run off to the nearest wine-bar and sip cocktails while my husband tried to find me to make dinner. But then I’d likely overdo it and end up being driven home by a well-meaning stranger who would need to be fed, too. Such is the life of a cook.

This Seventyish Woman Can be Found in Many Flavors, Like Ice Cream. What flavor are you?

Well, as I was saying, I was drying my hair this morning and starting to see a new version of myself emerge from the mass of strands. I remembered a friend saying again, yesterday, that she liked my hair in the picture from my birthday party in 2019. Well, that’s nice to know. But I like the beach hair picture of me. And I sort of liked this new short and strange haircut as it was drying and the phrase popped into my mind: I guess I come in many flavors. Maybe it’s because I got a new ice cream machine for my birthday and have been trying different flavors of ice cream. But I started thinking about the different flavors of me.

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