Patty's Weblog

Chickens! Years ago on a whim I started collecting chicken items. I look around my kitchen and the walls and cupboards are plastered and stuffed with photos and plastic and fabric and ceramic replicas of chickens.

But . . . maybe my collection wasn't driven by a simple whim. Maybe an underlying supernatural force guided my homage to the chicken, because today I saw a sign - a sign! - from the Great Chicken God in the burned-food patterns of the toaster oven tray.

I was in a treatment room at the doctor's office for a routine dermatology appointment last week. Actually, the day was my birthday. The door was closed but I could hear the nurses and doctors talking about patients as they walked noisily up and down the corridor. I heard one of them say " . . . the older woman in room . . . "

Could they mean me? Am I now in the category of older people?

Later, at home, I looked at my face in the mirror. Not the usual cursory glance to make sure I am somewhat presentable, but a full, glasses-on scrutinization. Perhaps those deep lines, lost eyelashes, waddly neck skin do make me appear "older". Sometimes I sit on the couch and study my hands, intrigued by the many patterns of wrinkles and folds of skin and age spots.

I don't mind much, but it is interesting to know that others think of me as older. I still think of myself as in my favorite photo of myself at 5 years old, roller-skating down the sidewalk.

Go to read more for my younger photo.
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