It's Official - I'm an OAP!!

Never mind that I have been picking up my state retirement pension since Adam was a lad, I am now officially one of those white haired seniors (and just when I was toying with the idea of getting my hair coloured - obviously I'll have to get rid of those "mutton dressed as lamb" ideas) who sit around in church halls and the like, waiting to be entertained, or for something to happen

It came about yesterday when I was sitting about the church hall waiting to be entertained, or for something to happen (I'd gone there for the seniors monthly lunch) and I was approached by the pastoral care leader who put me on her list of people she 'looks out for'.   I proffered my address book and she wrote in her contact details (after taking mine) and gave me another contact number of someone in case I have a fall (but I might be a bit confused about that).   I've got a mobile phone and can still remember that if I fall down and can't get up, I need to dial 999.   I won't go dialling 9ll by mistake, thinking I am calling a React Ambulance.

So now I can officially lounge around all day reading my stack of Bill Bryson books (I have moved on from the Monarchy).   Tim sometimes asks me in the morning what I am going to do during the day, and I get the impression sometimes he doesn't think that's active enough.

Today I was thinking about taking my trusty shopping bag on wheels into Oxford on the bus.  I'd originally thought of having a look at the doorway of Balliol College, which still has the scorch marks from when Latimer and Ridley were burned at the stake.   But I don't need to go there and think "Bloody Mary!!!!!  that was the younger me.    No, as befitting my new OAP status I will totter off from the bus, hopefully in the direction of M&S, and look for a couple of skirts.  As also befits my OAP status I've also shrunk into a little old lady, and all my skirts are in danger of dropping off me.

THEN, I will totter back home and lounge around reading my Bill Bryson books.

Do you know - in America they are so ACTIVE, they think nothing of sending OAPs walking miles through hospital corridors visiting other OAPs who HAVE had falls.   It makes me exhausted to think of it.   And not only that;  go to the Senior Centre in Shawnee on any given Tuesday or Thursday afternoon and you will see lots of OAPs whirling around to the strains of the 'Tennessee Waltz'.  Or clinging on to each other and smooching like they're 19.   Not that I did any whirling or smooching, I was there with my crocheting, listening to the music.

And my extremely low taste in music brings me to my next topic.   Something did happen in the church hall after lunch yesterday.   The recently appointed Director of Music gave a little talk - following a desert island discs format - of his favourite five CD's (all classical) and he said a little bit about each one before playing it.

Bear in mind that this is Oxford, everyone else in the room was a retired professor, or Fellow of a College, little uneducated me was in a minority of one.