Airing my dirty linen for the benefit of all

I've always loved pristine white linen summer blouses as well as the yummy fruity colours that appear in the spring. When I see a linen blouse in the store it's always just the right degree of rumpled and soft but until recently I couldn't duplicate that texture at home after laundering. Putting linen in the dryer, even on a low air setting, never produced the kind of soft look and feel I wanted. It came out too wrinkled and some styles just don't lend themselves to being ironed. I avoid…

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You know you’re a senior when . . .

Baby boomers came of age at a time when the mantra was never trust anyone over thirty. Ouch. Some of us now have grandchildren over thirty which means we've come a long way since then and have learned a thing or two along the way. We're brutally aware of our age, particularly when we start doing or saying things that sound like they're from another era or generation. Here are a few real-life examples experienced by baby boomers that drive this message home. You know you're getting old when: Closing…

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Boomer feel-good movie felt limp

There aren't a lot of movies out there that appeal to the Boomer set, so when one finally appears, we organize a girls' outing, line up for our cheap seniors' tickets, then line up again for our gallon pail of Diet Coke and bucket of chemically questionable popcorn. That's what happened this week when my gal pals and I settled in to see Paris Can Wait starring Diane Lane and Arnaud Viard with a cameo by Alec Baldwin. The reviews weren't great but we figured it would be worth the…

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Help! My scarves are choking me.

The inscription on my tombstone will be simple:  She finally quit complaining about her hair. She was organized. As a young girl and even later as a teenager, I never had a messy bedroom. My bed was made every morning. My single bottle of Evening in Paris and two bottles of Cutex nail polish were neatly lined up on my "roxatoned" dresser. My spartan wardrobe was carefully organized on hooks behind my bedroom door (the house was built in the 1880s and had no closets). In the late sixties when…

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The girlfriend grapevine is constantly growing

When girlfriends are on to a good thing, we share. If we find flattering jeans that fit our Boomer bodies, we tell everyone we know where to get them at the best price. We share recipes, the names of our favourite underwear brands (SOMA), favourite mascara (Lancôme Hypôse) and pretty much everything but our men. (We've invested too many years training them to our personal requirements.) There's a section in my blog inspired by Oprah called My Favourite Things which I haven't added to lately and is now going to…

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There was an old woman . . .

The other day as I was listening to a story on the radio about a house fire the announcer wrapped up by saying, "And the elderly woman who lived in the home died in the fire. She was sixty-two." That comment nearly knocked me on my flabby old fanny. Since when did sixty-two become elderly? I'm older than that; most of my friends are older than that and we hardly consider ourselves elderly. In fact, neither did my grandmother when she was well into her nineties. She always respectfully referred…

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