Simple days, runaway pigs remembered

Published 7:20 am Wednesday, February 21, 2024

By Bonnie Brown

Gettin’ old ain’t for sissies!  This has become my mantra in recent years.  As I grow older, one of the most frustrating things I’ve experienced is that my energy level is much lower than it used to be.  I move around more slowly.  Correspondingly, I have fewer things to do now that I’m retired, so I guess that’s the way it’s supposed to be.  

I am definitely a morning person.  In earlier times, my early morning burst of energy included ironing, washing the cars, grocery shopping, among other things.   I was at the grocery store checking out one morning around 6 a.m. when the cashier looked at me rather sheepishly and told me she could not ring up the beer I had on the counter since it was not yet 10 a.m.   I was only a little embarrassed, smiled, and told her I understood. 

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I seemed to have limitless get up and go back then.   But alas, that is no longer the case but I’m still at my best earlier in the day.  

There are other things that have changed now that I’m older.  I miss our old house, the one in which we raised our children Dennis and Jeff. We lived in the country and enjoyed the lifestyle very much. 

 While we lived on Woodson Ridge, we chased not only cows but horses and in one instance a pig named Rosie.  How did I know her name?  Well, I happened to be outside sweeping the garage when a truck pulled into the driveway and a man approached asking if I had a rope.  It is a well-known fact that with 2 active boys always getting into things, I could never keep string around the house, much less a rope.

 True fact, I used to hide the electrical tape in my underwear drawer for safe keeping when we needed it.  The gentleman told me he was going to “lasso” his pig, Rosie, who he had just seen near our house.  Like from an episode of MacGyver, I scanned the area for something resembling a rope and handed off a long, orange extension cord.  

It was quite a sight to see him walking Rosie home and I did worry that she was likely embarrassed to be seen in this way after having experienced some freedom.  

There are other things I miss now that I’m a senior citizen.  I miss being able to drive confidently at night, after dark.  I miss my “work families” from my various jobs through the years.   I miss the library.  I used to go there often.  I loved the smells and the promise of finding a good book.  Now I can simply download a book to my Kindle or look up something on the internet.   

I miss what I thought were simpler times.  Am I deceiving myself that the good old days were really more worry free, and truly the good old days?  

When you stop to think about your “good ol’ days,” just remember that this is your reflection on what were the happy times of your childhood, of your teenage years, your prime.  We often polish these memories to fill our need to escape some present-day realities, which is okay.  They are your memories.  

Perhaps I wasn’t as energetic as I thought back in the day.”  And maybe, just maybe, I’m not quite “over the hill” yet.