My good friend and I, having now found ourselves single and with time on our hands, have decided to… well – ‘blog’.
Fortunately the other half of this blogging sisterhood is much more skilled in the technical world than I am and has been able to set this all in motion. It is rumoured that in this age of compulsive communication, I am one of just a handful of people in the free-world whose cell phone has more dust on it than the relics in an Egyptian tomb. That I pay more than a few dollars a month to the phone company for a device that is also rapidly becoming a relic, is a source of confusion to my family.
But in an effort to drag myself into the new age, I got out my Funk and Wagnall’s to look up the word ‘blog’. Okay, so I looked it up on Wikipedia. I’m getting there.
‘Blog’ – a regularly updated website or web page typically run by an individual or small group in an informal or conversational manner. A truncation of the expression weblog.
Then I had to look up truncation.
I thought it sounded a little like writing letters to someone and never getting a reply. Who needs that aggravation anymore? And whatever happened to what’s-his-name, anyway?
But I digress.
Becoming single and being thrust into a world seemingly designed for duos has been an eye-opener and something I had never thought about before it was a reality for me. The terms ‘double occupancy’ and ‘two-for-one’ glare out at me as I contemplate undertaking even everyday things. I find myself avoiding those things that I had once done routinely. Some days it is just an effort to shop and cook for one person. But if I’ve learned one thing these past months, it is this. Life is too short to lament what cannot be changed and though at times a big boohoo can feel really good in the moment, you soon realize that life can only go one of two ways. You can stay in that moment or you can move on. Your choice.
And so it was decided that we two single gals birth this blog. And think about it. In what other era could women sitting about in their nightwear provide amusement for others without leaving home?
Well, perhaps there have been others, but I’m dead sure they were not wearing a flannel nightie or an oversized T-shirt, a souvenir from a high school reunion repurposed as nightwear, while ‘working from home’.
And so, as it is our intention to amuse, I begin with a tale from my childhood. My parents, younger brother and I lived with my grandparents in an old house located on the edge of the downtown core. Next to our home was a smaller one that had a sign in the window advertising Invisible Mending. And while the young women who lived there may well have been proficient with a needle and thread, their own skimpy attire did not bear witness. They appeared to be in serious need of some haute couture. As a child I wondered; were all their street clothes languishing in the mending basket?
The young women would occasionally venture out onto the front porch, red-lipped, rouged and ready, cigarette smoke billowing from their noses. They became an everlasting source of fascination to a five-year-old who took every opportunity to observe those who wore only their night clothes in the day time. This observation was made despite the admonishment of my tea-sipping, liquor-has-never-touched-these-lips grandmother, to avoid the place. But how could I miss seeing it all? They were right there across the fence. And I could never understand why their ‘mother’ allowed them to wander outside without being properly dressed. We were never allowed to even come to the breakfast table unless we were fully dressed and with our hair tamed into some of sort of respectability.
And so with that snapshot from a time so long ago, we begin our blogging journey. We cannot promise to impart great wisdom but perhaps readers may glean a little entertainment from our musings. Time will tell.
But here is one final word to those, who like me, have put in more decades than we like to think about. It is my favourite quote from Ian Fleming: “Older women are best, because they always think they may be doing it for the last time.”