

https://www.health.harvard.edu/staying-healthy/regain-your-confidence

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Another reason older adults lose confidence is ageism — the socially pervasive idea that you are too old to do certain activities.
In fact, studies have found that age stereotypes can diminish older adults’ ability to perform tasks even if they possess the proper skills.
For instance, research published in 2016 in the Journal of Applied Gerontology looked at the influence of ageism on driving ability among adults ages 65 and older. Participants’ driving confidence was measured by a questionnaire, and then everyone was exposed to either negative or positive age stereotypes.
The participants then completed a driving test. When confidence levels were recorded again, those who had been exposed to negative stereotypes had much lower self-reported confidence in their driving ability, even when they performed well on the driving test.
The lesson here is this: don’t let your age dictate whether or not you have the right ability, skills, or desire to succeed at something.

by Mike Flemming copyright

My old blue fountain pen allows
The ink across this page to flow
Like wet paint from an artist’s brush,
And words come in a rush.
Enchanted by the hand that writes .
Bewitched by art,beauty alights
The script is like a music score
Through which we step as through a door,
Imagination’s home.
As,mysteriously, to you, to me,
The spirits of our hearts are tamed ,
By rhythms of pen,of brush, of mind,
They enter vision quite unplanned,
Like moths to flutter softly round
Fire joined heart and hand
The pen slows down,the hand grows still,
And ,just as dreams at daybreak will,
They shrink,they disappear,they’re gone
Like dew dies in hot sun

by Katherine

Reader:Iabsolutely understand the impulse to avoid watching a loved one suffer, but it’s one of the problems of our society that we look away from people who are struggling. Too often we deny the realities of aging. We deny the humanity of our elders and people with disabilities, and we’re materially diminished by that choice. The service you give your grandmother by not looking away in the midst of her suffering serves as an example to your children, and it shapes you as a person. Dial back visit frequency if you must, but don’t stop them altogether. — Mary

Stan the aged yet sexy senior citizen was outside polishing the brass doorstep till it gleamed in the early sunshine leaking from a blue and orange sky.
“My goodness,these microfibre cloths are wonderful” he thought intrigued. Could I find a better word than wonderful?
.Mary was out taking a load of clothes to the Oxfam Shop.Suddenly he heard a loud cry.,then he felt a pair of hands fondling the top of his bald head and tugging on his beard.
“Eeh,no rest for the wicked,even at 81,” he screamed.He staggered to his feet and rubbed his nose with his knees.
“Just give me a hand” ,he said,”I’ll have to stretch my hamstrings.They tighten up so.”
“I’ll stretch them for you!” Annie whispered naughtily.Stan leant forward to touch his toes and she could not resist the temptation to give his bottom a hearty slap.
“For God’s sake,Annie” he shouted faintly.”Someone might see that.”
“Don’t worry,there’s no-one around at this time of the day” she tittered in her usual female manner..
“Oh,yes there is!”
It was Dave,the paramedic.He had been lying behind the wheelie bins,all three of them standing plaintively and unwanted in the tiny front garden.
“I’m an MI5 spy,and I’ve been reading your blog,Mr Brown.”We need you to answer a question”
“I’m not called Brown”,said Stan nerdishly.
“Refuses to accept reality,”Dave wrote in his little notepad with some blood he had taken from himself earlier,
“Jesus Christ!”, said Stan.”Now,now” said Dave,”that’s not your name.
“No my name is Tan,not Brown,you’ve been reading the wrong blog!” “Stan Tan!”
Dave appeared crestfallen,”Any chairs need mending today?”
“My what beautiful ears you have,sweetheart,” he said to Annie,
“They look like sea shells by the Dead Sea”
“Your eyes are like shallow pools in Lake Windermere during a summer thunderstorm.”Annie replied womanfully,sarcasm being alien to her nature.
“Are you still a transvestite?” she followed on incoherently yet logically.
“No,I had a mystical experience and now I’m a Zen Buddhist”
“How did that happen?” demanded Stan querulously.And can’t you be both?
“Well,I was knitting myself a Shetland lace sweater in pale blue mohair,and I suddenly had the feeling that everything was interwoven.
Going forward or backwards,sideways or straight ahead,it is all part of the warp and weft of life.
“mistakes don’t matter” he continued emotionally.
“Oh,yes,they do,”Annie said pouting her full lips,cherry pink by courtesy of L’oreal of Paris and New York,lip balm by Yves St Laurent,peach foundation by Lancome also of Paris,toning smokey grey mascara by Max Factor,handbag Annie’s own,deep burgundy 70 denier tights by M&S,Grey pointed ballet slippers by Bally of Switzerland.[also available in black,red and teal].Raspberry lingerie by ,strangely,M&S.
“As I was saying..,”
Dave dived back behind the wheelie bin.
Stan polished the brass and Annie disappeared in a patch of woodbine..
It was Mary’s famous and loud vocal imitation of a bicycle bell that had alerted them to her imminent return from the Oxfam shop.
“Don’t they make bike bells any more?” Dave boringly wondered as he carried on reading the new life of Emily Dickinson “A loaded gun.” He thought it was an army training manual,but,hey,mistakes don’t matter!Or do they?Read the next instalment yesterday at your local newsagent or here free of interest,hope or love.Any additions welcome.
All donations to Oxfam.
In Bedzin and in Krakow they breathed in
What they denied in conscious thought or word.
The ashes of the Jews, the shades of skin
Penetrating lungs so deep within
The dead unburied mixed, in air secured
In Bedzin and in Krakow, they breathed sin.
The nearby people turned to burial urns.
The human dust by breathing was allured
The ashes of the Jews, the shades of skin.
So Europe took their human ash within.
A graveyard we became unknown, impure.
In Bedzin and in Krakow, more of sin.
And who they thought destroyed lived on in them
Controlled their lungs, their hearts their minds uncured,
The ashes of the Jews, borne on their skin.
Like a mass communion without words
We ate and breathed the Jews, the gays, the bared.
In Bedzin and in Krakow we walked in
The ashes of the lost, the glades of skin

I saw my house uprooted like a tree
Great roots were severed, how I ached to see
And all was tossed without my love and care
Bits of earth fell from the roots. now bare.
Barbaric in its mad intensity
I wept the tears of grief for you, for me.
Our home attacked,destroyed and I lie here.
Putting out the flames with profuse tears
Lamenting for my love who died within
The collapsing of my world now with no sun
The house a symbol of our marriage true
Cannot stand without a me and you
So my vision passed and I am here
My memories are my only souvenir
Lancashire
Hennetwistle has a railway stop
The name is Viking now it’s usually spelled
Entwistle, where reservoirs fill up
Manchester wants water, here it’s held
Too Thirlmere is an artificial lake
For tea in Manchester, those thirsty folk
How much more d’ye think that they will take?
Hamlets drowned, dull cypress trees that cloak
I once passed through Darwen on a train
On the way to Ilkley with my aunt
No memory of bliss with me remains
Except the flowers so wild, their ghosts still haunt
Yet nowhere else gives me the feel of home
This landscape is my body and my soul

Zenphobia = fear of meditation.
Manphobia=fear of single men.
Ironpansphobia-fear of metal pans.
Lensphobia= fear of digital cameras.
Femaphobia-fear of females.
Criticismo’phobia= fear of nasty remarks from Irish men.
Tanphobia=fear of the sun
Tenphobia= fear of decimals.
Bigbenphobia= fear of the government
Fensphobia=fear of East Anglia.
Hensphobia=fear of being chased by hens.
Sinophobia= fear of Chinese sins.
Tinphobia= fear of tinned Fray Bentos pies.
Chartphobia=fear of diagrams.

Mary went into the kitchen walking very slowly because she was wondering what to have for supper. Now that she was alone she had so much more choice but appetite had not returned after her husband has gone on holiday with his mistress Annie who live next door.
Well I suppose we all need our freedom at times but to do it so blatantly was wrong. Phil the fact that he’s already had an affair with this woman next door made it less surprising.
The problem was that he normally cooked the supper so Mary was not used to thinking about the menu. When she was a student she bought a
steak pie in a tin but she didn’t know whether you could buy things like that anymore and anyway Marks and Spencers and it’s chilled food was usually a lot more tempting than tins of meat pies. But she had not planned ahead. She had not remembered to go shopping. she remembered that emu had some very nice food which look like beef pieces in jelly.
Later Mary and Emile were sitting at the table eating beef pie made with frozen puff pastry.
It’s very good Mary cried. Do you like it Emile?
Yes I’m quite converted to pies I’d like a sardine tomorrow or how about making some bread dough and we could have a sardine and mushroom pizza.
So Mary said to him you know I don’t eat fish.
Well don’t worry I will eat the entire pizza for myself,the cat told her. I wonder if pizza express do them? You could have a vegetarian pizza mother.
Yes alright then we can have that tomorrow with one provision that you eat yours outside on the patio
Alright I agree I know that you want to spend some time alone because you are very angry with Stan and Annie.
But we all know exactly well that Stan died some years ago. Is Mary losing her marbles ?
Then the phone rang. Hello it’s Annie they heard.
I don’t like Blackpool much especially my being alone. So I’m going to come back tomorrow and on the way from the station I will call into Marks and Spencer’s food shop. I’ll buy some lovely food and bring it around tomorrow evening so I can tell you about my adventures in the Blackpool Illuminations.
Well am I going mad, thought Mary. Never mind no one will notice because I was already very peculiar but I’ll be careful not to speak to anyone who doesn’t already know me. Or I will take a vow of silence and say I am a nun. I’m going to build a hermitage in the garden.
Can I be a nun as well said Emile?
Will at the moment a man cannot be a nun but if the rules change I will let you know Emile.
Thank you ,mother.
And so say all of us
So why are you eating that layered chocolate icecream,Mary,asked Annie her dear neighbour charmingly attired in a light purple skirt and blue silk top with butterflies embroidered round the neckline and hips covered by a silk dressing gown in light orange
Well, it’s a rather a strange story;it all began when Sainsburys had no slots for delivery
That’s not very interesting,said Annie foolishly
It is to me, Mary muttered plaintively.I wondered if there was anywhere else to get milk and bread delivered as my neighbours were not so keen to get my last prescription
Why, was it for heroin? Annie teased her, her smiling face ruined by a too pale foundation by Hercules of Paris and Dalmatia with crimson lipstick from Boots adorning her wrinkled lips.She looked ready to star in Death in Venice
No it was for cystitis, Mary cried.Anyhow I went on to Deliveroo and they have a store that sells food from Marks and Spencers.Only a limited range, of course
Mary’s oval face flushed with a pink glow and her singular blue eyes flashed like imitation diamonds at sunset in Weston -super-Mare
In contrast she was wearing a heather tweed skirt and jumper of pure new wool
And her green trainers and matching tights
But they had no milk so I continued with them on to Morrisons who again have a small selection
of food and drink
In half an hour they were at the door and all was well
Then one word came to my mind
What was it, Annie asked her nervously, her fingers twisting her newly washed her into ringlets so fast it looked as if she was destroying the roots
Eggs,Eggs! They had no eggs,Mary confided.
Have you none left?
Yes but Emile fell off the window sill onto the work surface and crushed them all
Do you believe it was an accident? Cats have been known to suck eggs,Annie whispered
Wow,I didn’t know that, Emile miaowed furtively
Stay away from my eggs,Mary scolded him.Lay your own.I wish I could
So naturally I went to Deliveroo where the local Coop was selling food
I got eggs,crumpets, marmalade and then I noticed they sold icecream.Chocolate icecream.
You never eat it.Annie told her
But I like it, so I thought,I’ll just get one as it is Easter
Well, the man came to the door and I saw he had a very small bag
I took it and it said, “sorry, we have no eggs so we have sent 6 icecreams”
That is illogical ,said Annie.You can’t bake icecream nor eat it boiled with toast
So then I thought I”ll either fly into a rage or I will eat the icecream
Then tomorrow I will phone them and say, those eggs you sent were off
I have been sick all night.I want a refund
This is not like you,Mary, her friend said.You don’t cheat and tell lies
Not up till now but we have to change.Not just ethically but also
we have to curse and swear
Your fecking eggs were off.
But Annie shouted: they will say
We don’t sell fecking eggs we only have pickled eggs
Then I will shout: pickle off cried Mary
That icecream has made you go crazy,Mary.,Annie informed her
Am I schizophrenic? Mary asked politely
Not yet but Emile might be if you carry on
I’ll make us some lovely PG Tips Tea, that will restore our sanity
And make some for all of us
I’m standing on the diving board so now my time has come
I’d like to thank the prison guards each and every one
I have suffered all the torture, I didn’t think I would
The starving and the torture have not done much good.
Losing weight is easy when you are in jail.
We didn’t get much sunshine so I’ve turned quite pale.
I could hear some others screaming but I just sang my song
Take me to the northern hills for that’s where I belong
Take me to my garden, will you find my cat
I’m used now to being alone but I would like him back.
I’ve spent so long in darkness with ceilings low and grim
I’m ready for the dive now although I cannot swim
Before you are old
Read poetry
Before you are old
write poetry
Before you are old
Be a perceiver.
Before you are old
When you are old
Write poetry
When you are old
Read poetry.
Hear the music
In the silence
Hear the music
Float away on its waves
A Neurologist’s Tips to Protect Your Memory https://nyti.ms/3Ihv8ps

Some memory lapses are actually attention problems, not memory problems. For instance, if you’ve forgotten the name of someone you met at a cocktail party, it could be because you were talking with several people at the time and you didn’t properly pay attention when you heard it.
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I am having a severe reaction to the CV ovid booster. My arm from the elbow to the shoulder is very painful. It’s difficult to move the my arm.
I felt ill yesterday. When I went to bed I was so tired that I could hardly get up to turn the light out. I have forgotten about it
After a couple of hours sleep I woke up feeling teally ill. Best my shoulders hurt. My left knee which is my good one was very swollen and I could hardly put my weight on it to walk
I was not worried about it because I have had this too already with no reaction but I certainly would feel worried about taking it again
If you have arthritis talk to your doctor before you have this booster jab
to the bathroom
Before we go to bed we vegetate
No need for teacher but a compost heap.
And as we vegetate, we drift to sleep
While in our dreams our little mind debates
But mostly we’re unknowing in this dark
Where God himself may manifest at will.
His dazzling darkness makes our souls be still
And wait for strikes by living ,glowing spark.
But in the morning ,we come back to strife
Take up our work and suffer every stroke.
From sapling to the oldest,strongest oak
Each must choose again its proper life
Every look we cast at others strikes
Reflects and shows us what we have become
And when there is no movement, we are done
Our mind and heart have chosen what they like.
So in our end we vegetate again
And no more rise to labour in the day
We fertilise the fields passed on our way
We show the end of woman and of man.
A daily round becomes our life and death.
We live because we’re breathed by sacredness.
What effect do abstract theories have?
Is the mind bamboozled our words?
What’s a sentence to an act of love?
What effect do abstract theories have?
What’s naked heart to those who’re sad?
On Good Friday what has Ireland spurnef?
What effect do abstract series have?
Is the mind cut off by friendless words?