Diary of Lisa Taylor, reluctantly 42 (and a half)

Or.. 'f.ck me I'm forty.. two.. and a half', though can look 38 on a - not so deluded - good day. Or 'How to reconcile a well experienced mind trapped in a still - but for how long? – youthful body.' Don't have the 30somethings angst/problems, neither have the resigned (?) ageing baby-boomers in safe family territory outlook yet. Here's how I cope, one day all sexy women will get old... but never invisible. © Lisa Taylor 2005/6/7/8/9. Jeez.. so much for the 42 and-a-half delusion

Thursday, April 23, 2009

23 April - Gardens & Middle A

Yes, if it wasn't just enough to have Toph ring from LA to ask how his clematis is doing and are there any bugs attacking it.. (me, more interested in his recent encounter with Dave Stewart's healer and his claim that by twaking something on your jaw he takes years off you as in fact one Annie Lennox he'd done it to, called him after one of her Letterman's appearances to say that wow, she did look younger on TV, thanks to him), I'm away this w/end and am worried about the new plants in pots since have learnt that they get hot faster than those in the ground/soil, and since it's Ibiza weather, will they all be dead by next Monday?

I mean, since when do I give a f x about plants? Back in '86/7 when I bought my first property I remember distinctly deciding with my cohabitant D. that we would not look at flats with gardens as we were always out day and night and we could think of nothing worse than have to tend a garden and since ours, if we had one, would turn into a jungle in 4 weeks, we steered well away from one. Plus I hated basements and they seemed to be the only ones with gardens attached (of course neither of us had the cash to buy houses, a flat it had to be). So there, get to the wrong side of forty and wooo, coooo, look at them flowers/plants and, I kid you not, I stood and watched a red robin in the new garden for as long as he pecked about the other day. I guess it was the novelty factor or I hope it is, rather than some contemplative state peculiar to the old.

Then again, if that's what they do, time goes faster that way surely. Bit like being doped up. And it's true that I want an old person's home high backed reading chair...
But maybe just buy me a recording studio quality speakers and give me some rave music to just remember I ain't old yet.



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