Life isn’t always interesting, but I think aging is one of the things that will never cease to amaze me. I mean, it’s a natural thing, right? There isn’t anything terribly amazing about that. What really astonishes me is the fact that I think I’m fine, and then all of the sudden, it seems I’m thick and becoming somewhat of a sourpuss.

I remember back when I was young. Fresh from the farm, you might say. I thought I would stay young forever. (Don’t tell any one, but I even had some work done to prevent…you know…getting old.) I thought I was the cream of the crop, and nothing could touch me.

I remember, when I was growing up, there was this one time it was *really* hot. I mean, hotter than the dickens. It didn’t seem like there was anything I could do about it. I was pretty restless, moving from here to there, pretty muh wherever life flowed. Unfortunately, I caught one of those “summer colds” once…a bout of something nasty I couldn’t get rid of. Around the time it started cooling off, when we were all ready for some sweet relief, it just seemed to get worse.

My cold lingered. And, it didn’t cool down nearly as much as I was hoping it would. It was hot. And muggy. I suppose that’s when I began to let this…whatever…take hold of me, just wishing it would end. I was ready for sweet relief.

Just when I didn’t think I couldn’t take any longer, there was a break in the temperature. Oh, the joy of feeling cool, fresh air! I even went so far as to relocate to a cooler climate after what seemed like ages of just incubating. There isn’t really a good way to describe how nice the coolness felt after sitting stagnant for so long. By now, I had also gotten rid of that dumb cold, but the damage had been done. I didn’t *feel* different, but I knew I wasn’t the same as who I was when I began.

So, now, here I am, feeling old (and a little fat). I’m not who I was, but I think I’m still pretty useful. At least it’s cool where I am.