At Your Age

Gah… Seriously, people, I don’t feel that old. Well, except for right now, but that’s another story completely. I hear, “At your age,” and I think of my Gran when she was in her 80’s. I’m not even close.

But I am post-menopausal and there are things I need to do that I don’t; for example, bone density tests. And right now I’m dealing with that little issue.

A little back history (ahahahaha!! Unintended pun!!!).

A little over a month ago I decided to get a new pair of sneakers. This lovely pair of Chuck Taylors caught my eye. I haven’t worn that brand in a long time. These weren’t your standard canvas CTs, noooo…. They were black leather and canvas.

Chuck Taylors
Classic Chuck Taylors. I couldn’t find an image of the shoes I bought, but you get the idea. 🙂


I had to have them.

About a day or two later we had a very foggy morning, leaving our concrete porch extremely wet. I’d just made a run to … somewhere… honestly, I don’t remember and that part of the story is irrelevant anyway. On my way in my feet, in these new Chuck Taylors, decided it would be a good time to remind me that this particular brand of shoes have crap for traction on slick surfaces. My feet went right out from under me and I landed flat on my tuchus.

Gravity Lessons


I felt everything in my spine compress and I knew I’d broken my tailbone. Eh, what can be done about a broken tailbone? I figured I’d just jammed everything else together and I’d be sore for a couple of weeks.


A month later, not only had things not improved, they were actually getting worse. I had to go to an orthopedist. He did x-rays and an MRI, and I found out I had compression fractures in 3 of my vertebrae.

WHAT??? But all I did was fall on my a**! This didn’t used to happen!!

getting old

Oh, and if this wasn’t alarming, evidently, this wasn’t the first time I’d done something like this. I also have older compression fractures that have healed.

So why am I telling you all this?

Get your bone density tests. It doesn’t matter how old you are. If you went into early menopause, get your bone density tests done anyway. You don’t want to end up in a back brace looking that’s more like a medical corset because of your fashion choice on a foggy morning.



Time, Time, Time… See What’s Become Of Me…

… while I looked around for my possibilities …

I decided this entry would have to be a two-part story because it’s just so lengthy. Or, maybe it just seems lengthy to me because I have so little free time lately. 🙂

Regardless, I could easily write about what is going on now, but to truly understand one needs the background of what has gone on over the past couple of years (or, at least an abridged version).

I was laid off in February of 2011. I won’t go into a story of the cycle of depression one fights with that experience. I briefly touched on it when I hit my 1-year anniversary of unemployment.

At 47 years of age, one finds it difficult to find employment, regardless of laws against age discrimination. Looking for full-time employment? Good luck in the current economy, regardless of your age. August 3 of this year was the 2-and-a-half-year anniversary of my unemployment… technically…

See, eventually I had to do something or I’d go crazy. I started my own consulting business, designing logos and brochures. I found I have a creative streak. But my marketing skills? Ehh… not so great (not for myself, anyway). So in my free time, a few months ago, I started making incense. This has taken off.

My garage and my home smell wonderful. My house looks like a stockroom right now. But Tempest Mystic Products is up and running. 🙂

These past two months have been so busy! I’ve been building up inventory for a major festival this October. My routine:

  • Get up at 4am. Drink coffee.
  • Work in the garage from 4:30am – 8:00am
    • putting incense out to dry
    • or harvesting dry incense
  • Shower (it’s hot in that garage)
  • More coffee
  • Mix oils for more incense
  • Bag and Tag dry sticks
  • Product Development/Fulfill Orders

Oh, and somewhere in there I do remember to eat.

Of course, now that I’ve finally found something that works, what do I get?

A job. A real job. I start next week.

A job? A real job??
A job? A real job??

To be continued…

How it Feels to Ride The Menopause Express

As I write, the pain flows through me. I can’t begin to describe the overwhelming feelings of depression, frustration, anger…. I just know I’m so sick of being ok one moment then being a weepy mess. And I’m running out of cheap crockery to throw.

This is what menopause is like. No one tells you about this part of the process. You’ll always hear about the periods you’ll never miss, or the hot-flashes. It’s been nearly three years since I’ve had a cycle. That much is true – I don’t miss that mess. Hot-flashes? Yeah, they’re inconvenient, but easily dealt with. It’s this last stop on the Menopause Express I could do without.

I can’t speak for all families. I came from a highly dysfunctional family. Mom was never comfortable with her age, much less, herself. I remember her being “29” on her birthday for so many years, until I innocently asked her one year why she stayed the same age but I kept getting older. She dodged the answer, but the next year, she was “30”. Mom never talked about “the change” when it hit. She never told my sister or me what to expect, other than, “Oh, my God! It’s hot in here!” And her moods were never stable. But then again, her moods were never stable, so that was hardly noticeable.

My sister is six years older than me. I was always grateful, growing up, to have her around. When puberty hit I knew what to expect because I saw her go through the process. My sister and I were close (and still are); I could ask her questions. She taught me how to shave my legs, and all the other girly-things one needs to know when puberty strikes. But menopause has been different. The change struck both of us at the same time. We have each other to talk to, but no one to learn from.

That got me wondering, “how many women are in this same situation?” By the time they hit that point in their lives, are their mothers still around? If they’re lucky enough to have mom around, what if mom was the type that never talked about these things? If you come from that family, chances are, you aren’t going to go asking mom about what’s happening to your body by the time you’re in your 40’s or 50’s. Are you one to talk about what’s happening to your body?

That was when I decided to start writing.