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I woke early this morning and lay there for quite a while planning my day. There were so many things that I figured I could do! Exercising came into it somewhere and possibly walking around the nature center with a camera. I might go shopping at the mall or put up some Christmas decorations. There were a million things to do around the house and numerous projects to finish. ( I have a tendency to start things and then lose interest.) By the time I’d got up, had breakfast and taken a look outside at the snow on the ground and the ice in the bird bath, my enthusiasm had begun to wane. Whatever happened to the good old days when I used to follow through with all those schemes and got things done?

Was it really 60 years ago that I was leaping about on the stage in my little pink tutu to the strains of “Glow Worm” and curtsying to the applause of enthusiastic relatives as the curtain came down on one more ballet recital? I yearned to be another Pavlova and to hear my parents talk you would have thought I could have easily given that prima ballerina a run for her money had she still been alive by then.

The ballet didn’t last but the dancing continued, 50 years ago, when I habitually stayed out till all hours at the local dance halls only to come home and find my father waiting for me on the pavement outside our house, with a face like thunder, in his pyjamas. Those were the days!!

Was it as long as 30 years ago when I was running to keep up with three young daughters, volunteering for girl scouts, rushing from dancing classes to basketball courts to gymnastics meets?

It was only 20 years ago when I would think nothing of hiking round the nature center carrying a tripod and backpack filled with photographic gear, standing up to my knees in snow in 10 degree below temps, waiting to get a shot of an elusive hawk.

And surely it was only just 10 years ago that I suddenly decided to take up fencing. I’d never done anything in the way of sport before and my fellow fencers would probably tell you that I was absolutely hopeless but I loved it!! I relished the challenge and reveled in the grueling regimen of exercise and training required to at least stay in the game with half a chance. That lasted for about 5 years until ‘Father Time’ finally caught up with me and dealt a rather unwelcome hit.

Nowadays I can only seem to muster up the inclination or energy for the occasional walk around the indoor track and the odd foray into the nature preserves. So much for all that get-up-and-go! I wonder when it actually left me and where it went. Maybe I should (get up and go) look for it! I’m sure if I found it I would put it to good use.

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