It's official, I am now a curmudgeon.
Yesterday I did something to the back of my left knee, maybe a hamstring strain or something worse. Anyway I am using a cane and have a brace on my knee to make it easier to walk. Just now I heard this commotion on my front porch. Two half grown dogs were raiding our cat Tony's food bowl.
I ran out yelling and waving my stick at them telling them to get out.
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But, I do try to curtail my curmudgeoness. 
that my brain thinks I am still 30, and my body realizes that I am 64. My brain thinks my reflexes are as quick as they used to be so when I stumble, my dingbat brain thinks I can move my body fast enough to not fall. My body is winning this disagreement more and more often. 
because we females need to be the curmudgeonesses. Unless someone has a better term for us. Cranky crones doesn't quite do it.
Send me your application along with $25.00 in small unmarked bills and a self addressed stamped envelope, and if I deem you worthy, (which I probably won't) I will send you your certificate in the mail. Now, do I need to tell you what to do with your stick you old fart? 
The more the...
Well, never mind.
