Also, she does not overtly judge me for telling her that I am SO ready for my dogs to die, even though she loves her old dogs with a love that knows no bounds.
We are older now, we are wiser, we know when to judge and when the fuck not to.
"I love you!" I call as I leave her yard, my freshly shorn old blind deaf dogs in tow.
"I love you too!" she calls back as she hangs her newly filled bird-feeders from their hooks.
Yes. When you get old, you start to love birds if you never did before. It is as much a sign of aging as are aching joints, arthritis in the spine, loss of memory and a love of Lawrence Welk.
I just made that last one up. I still hate Lawrence Welk and if I could clear my memory of certain things to make room for others, the Lawrence Welk show would be one of them along with the commercials that ran on his show for Serutan, Which Is Nature, Spelled Backwards!
Which explains a lot.
But Beverly and I, we may have grown up on the Lennon Sisters but we both remember when this happened:
And we were hurtled from one one incredibly predictable world (and if your life wasn't predictable, you could just take a shot or two of Serutan which would produce regularity) to a completely different reality where women weren't something that men could say about, "I think I'll keep her," to "I'll satisfy your every need." And the men singing about those needs had big juicy lips and wore tight black pants and even if we were prepubescent, we had an inkling.
Which led to things like this.
Yeah. Beverly knows all about that and she used to front a band herself as a vocalist and she was hot. We went from the Lennon Sisters to Janis Joplin in about the time that it's taken Justin Bieber to rise to the highest heights and burn the fuck out.
No wonder we're crazy as shit and love our cardinals, our sparrows, our bluebirds, our woodpeckers, our finches.
Time to put the chickens up.