The Red Dress Diary: Entry Two

Mad Dog's gettin' married! Every Friday we're reading from her "secret" diary as the big day approaches! Shhh... Here's her second entry:

Meeting the Kids...The Rest of the Story:

I was having lunch one day with my niece. It was right before my first trip to meet my fiance's grown children and I was already quite nervous about the upcoming introduction. So her question made me even more aprehensive.

"You aren't going to meet his kids in clothes like that, are you?"

I hadn't bought clothing for quite a while, and I guess I hadn't noticed that my wardrobe was mostly worn and dated. Before I could answer, she quipped, "Well, we will just have to go shopping and get you some 'meet the kids' clothes."

I loved what she picked out, and Tom's daughter immediately complimented me on my attire. When I explained that it was one of my new "meet the kids" outfits, she laughed, paused and then asked, "Dad, how old is that shirt you have on? Maybe you should have been the one to get new 'meet the kids' clothes!"

--Melinda (Mad Dog)

We Call Her ...The ALPHA Dog

My friend, Diana, aka d.d. dawg, suggested I write a blog about how I came up with the WOOFer idea and what I expected life to be like at 50 and/or 60.

Well, let's get something straight right off, this really wasn't my idea. It's a wonderful idea and I’d like to take credit for it, but I simply mentioned starting a club since we were all turning 50. (Actually, I’d already reached that milestone a few years before, but Diana and Mary were about to join me.) That’s the extent of my contribution. They took the ball and ran with it. I merely stood on the sidelines and cheered them on.

Now, concerning my expectations about turning 50, I guess it depends on how old I was when I thought about it. At 21, I was probably thinking, “I hope they just take me out and shoot me.” At 49, I was probably trying to figure out how many years I could claim to be 49. I tried being 39 for several years until my son turned 30 and no one was buying it anymore.

The year I turned 50, I became a grandmother for the first time. It happened again when I was 54. When this occurs, it’s a life changing experience. Totally different from motherhood. Grandchildren are God’s gift to you for surviving parenthood. I can’t tell you how much I love my granddaughters. They made my life complete.

Also, in my fifties, I bought my first house, something I swore I’d never do. Now I spend my time mowing the yard, pulling weeds, cleaning up dog poop left by neighbor's pets, and thinking about washing my windows. Did I mention I couldn't be happier about it?

Near the end of my fifties, I was fortunate enough to retire. I taught elementary school for 36 years. I’ve since been lucky enough to travel places I never thought I’d see (Did you know they have tours for people on budgets? You just have to hop on someone else's schedule -- getting up at the crack of dawn to make sure your luggage is out in the hall so it gets on the bus.)

Now I am in my sixties—okay, 65 to be exact. My “friends” call me Medicare Carol. I’m blessed with wonderful friends, young and old, and good health. I exercise regularly and am actually below the weight on my driver's license. Who would have thought it?

Life goes on with changes, some good, some I’d rather pass on given a choice. (Oh, that reminds me, did I mention the wonderful granddaughter born when I was 50 is getting ready to take driver's ed? Oh, yeah, and those footprints? They belong to her!) I move slower and scare myself when I look in the mirror, but truly, I am content. Would I change anything? Well, we'd all like more money, right? But in reality I have it all....family, friends, health, and enough money to pay the energy bills. At least I do this month.

If you’re reading this, I’m sure it is an edited version. Diana and Mary are both much better writers than I am. (That is probably the one sentence that wasn't changed.) I’m sure you will enjoy reading the WOOFer book. It’s filled with wit and insight, and will help you as on move through your own glorious life journey.

--Carol Proffitt (aka Alpha Canine)

(Pictured: Dot (Pedigree), Diana (d.d. dawg), Mary (Milkbone) and seated before us, Carol (The Alpha Canine)

A Wiley WOOFer

I could see she had spunk when she marched into the booth.

“Hello there…” I began my usual pitch.

She grabbed a copy of WOOF: Women Only Over Fifty, and thumbed through the pages. “I’ll take it.”

“Great,” I said. “Is there someone special you’d like me to inscribe it to?”

“Yeah.” She beamed, pointing at her chest. “Me!”

Handing over the signed book, I thanked her and commented, “I love it when a woman gets it for herself.”

With a snort, she turned on her heel and called over her shoulder. “Sometimes that’s the only way you get it!”

WOOFer wisdom at work.

Diana (d.d. dawg)