This Old Lame

I am attempting to make my Lame Post Friday post on Friday, but no promises as to whether I will hit Publish before Saturday morning.  I am tired, and my eyes are acting funny.  I can’t seem to focus up close or even in the middle distance.  Usually when this happens, I find I have put on the wrong glasses.  Operator Error is kind of a theme in my life.  However, I checked my glasses at least three times; they are a reading pair.

I seem to be asking my body, “What the Hell?” a lot these days.  Earlier today, as I creaked out of my chair after sitting for less than a half hour for lunch, I preceded that question with, “I am 59, not 112!”

This is how old I feel, only not as well dressed.

I interrupt my whining with a picture.  This is me and my friend Jim in a scene from Morning’s at Seven, a play we did at Ilion Little Theatre a few years ago.  I was the oldest sister.

Aging like fine wine?

A friend gave me a plaque that said, “I’m not old, I’m vintage!”  I confess I do not pay too much attention to the vintage of the wine I drink, but I love vintage automobiles.   Although I usually call them classic cars.  Yeah, that’s me:  classic.

I suppose I am not that sleek, but one does what one can.

This car was in the Ilion Days Doodah Parade last year.   I just thought it would be apropos to include a picture of a vintage car.

My foolishness has gotten me over 250 words.  Phew!  We shall see what sort of a post I can come up with for Saturday.  Scattered? Slacker?  A little suspense adds interest to my weekend.