Drop by Drop

netanimations.net

'He who learns must suffer

And even in our sleep

pain that cannot forget 

falls drop by drop upon the heart,

And in our own despair,

against our will,

Comes wisdom to us by the awful grace of God.'

Aeschylus
                                                                                                      

thanks for dropping by,
hoping you return again,
Riverwatch 

Educators

I don't know how it is in your church,

or mountainside open-air cathedral, 
or lake side beach chair,
or even cassino,

but in the church I attend, every Sunday there is a portion of the worship service where we can turn in cards requesting prayer for a specific person or circumstance.

Not only do we get to pray for each others' concerns and dilemmas as Pastor leads us in prayer, but we also get to hear the concerns and dilemmas of the crowd.

This Mother's Day Sunday we prayed for several people, war-torn nations, weather and travel.
But the prayer request that pierced my heart was the prayer for education and educators.

I believe that was the first time I heard that prayed over.....
or maybe just the first time it pierced my heart.
My daughter, a school teacher, had called me the night before in such anguish over how education has gone in our nation.
My heart was open to the anguish of educators.

As I have added education and educators to my prayer list, I wonder what specific should I pray for?
It is all complex even in America.........
                     and fraught  with many  issues,
                                  dangerous issues, in some other lands
                                                       and for some other peoples.

But since science disproves science (again and again), I will start praying for lifelong learning for all of us.
We must be ever learning .

Go tell it on the mountain, over the hills and everywhere,


                                                                                                     
                                                                                                                                        fotosearch.com






Go tell it on the mountain.

zoeaustrailia.org


I appreciate you and your visit,
Riverwatch



2 Timothy 1:7   For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power,
                          and of love, and of a sound mind.

The Classroom

I have learned that the best classroom in the world is at the feet of an elderly person.

Sweet Dreams

 



Sweet Dreams Into Nightmares

Sweet dreams are so important to the well being of our being.
Well, my daughter says it is actually travel, concerts and celebrations in real life that are the ticket to fortified well-being.
It is not that I disbelieve her.  It is just there is none of that in my life at present, nor is there anything on the horizon.
I have to opt for dreamland.

I read that nightmares are caused by dehydration and if you want  Sweet Dreams you must go to bed fully hydrated.
I drank a half pitcher of clear, cold, pure water and retired.

Oh, my gosh!!  The man I love was there in full and living color.  He was, of course, old, while I was so young and, probably pretty.  He was so sweet to me and he was thinking I was 20!
I secretly laughed wondering if it would be a deal breaker when he found out I am only 19!!!
          
                                 eugenblackwell16.typepad.com

Then I woke up.  Slowly
Reality hit like a thunderbolt out of nowhere.
O M G!   I am 72 !  
The living nightmare, the gap between 19 and 72,  was so bad I suddenly knew why some people kick the bucket during their sleep.

What physical turmoil can occur when you awaken from a Sweet Dream 

and realize you are OLD !!!!

Nausea assailed me.
 My heart raced.
My mind bent double back upon itself.
I survived that awakening. but I had a peek into why some people die "in their sleep".  They don't die in their sleep! They die waking up from a Sweet Dream to the Living Nightmare.

Later I met my son for a diet coke at Del Taco.  Our talk had died down into boring, so I told him about my Sweet Dream/Living Nightmare.
He laughed.
"Oh, Mom, don't worry.  Someday you'll be 98 and have a Sweet Dream that you are 72 and wake up screaming in a panic because it isn't true!"
                                                                                               



Well, life may be all about perspective, but let me tell you all this:
tonight I feast on Doritos  before dropping off into sleep.


snackoree.com



Let the well-hydrated have their Sweet Dreams.

Living Nightmares are not all that bad as long as they don't appear suddenly and without warning.

Oh   My   Gosh!     I am 72!

Loving life in a terrifying way
and loving you for visiting,
Riverwatch

Oh, Doctor, My Doctor!

Cosmetic Surgery

Who is at most risk? The surgeon or the adolescent patient?

My darling granddaughter, Christina, decided to have  breast reduction surgery.

A stunningly beautiful girl, she was TIRED, TIRED TIRED of all the humiliation that is directed at over-endowed females in public.

Nobody encouraged her to have cosmetic surgery except her surgeon, her therapist, and her grandmother Riverwatch the RN.

Being an adolescent 19 years old without money, Chritina's parents did have to buy off on the procedure.
 Doesn't mean they approved.

My theory is that every woman deserves a running chance in public!

The female surgeon's theory is I might as well make the money as some dude surgeon.

Her therapist's theory is no other modality of treatment has worked so let's call this surgery a modality.

verywell.com

Dr. Wonderful was stunned at how her “mature and intelligent” patient turned into a freak of all freaks post-operatively.

Thank goodness for Smart Phones which can track and reach a falcon on a cloudy day!
verywell.com

Dr. Wonderful had no place to hide.

When Christina fell on her chest and created nice big hematomas, pictures flew back and forth over the wireless even in the middle of the night. Dr. Wonderful's return pictures were of NORMAL hematomas (there is no such thing) so Christina could compare her hematomas with normal ones and she could see how normal and non-life-threatening were those bulges of blood.

There was so much drama.

huffingtonpost.com

 I was calm. I merely said, with typical lack of nursing sympathy, “Whatever possessed you to double up on your LorTab dose and then repeat it in an hour? No wonder you fell!”

I won't bore you with all the screaming Christina did or all the hard-nosed crap she threw at her world renown cosmetic surgeon.
I felt sorry for the acclaimed woman who took on this case surgically.

But Dr. Wonderful is not renowned for nothing!

When the surgery was all over and pronounced “ excellent outcome” , this surgeon hired my fragile granddaughter!

Dr. Wonderful said to her,  “I want to hire you because you are highly intelligent and already a certified Emergency Medical Tech, and such an interesting patient, and I have only had one other patient like you and I need to have you educate me as to how and why anxiety is released so suddenly and abundantly by the surgical process. 
It will be such helpful education for me to help me with other patients. I will pay you for your time to visit with me for a couple of hours, talking about your feelings and even what your therapist has talked with you about.”

Christina was so enthused with this honor!
She forgot her anger at Dr. Wonderful as she unloaded (for pay) on this savy savy woman who certainly knows how to pull the net around a freako.
Christina willingly and enthusiastically broke her own confidentiality of therapy and let the whole nine yards hang out.
For money, of course.
Paid.
Paid to educate her world renowned surgeon.

Christina will never sue. The outcome was so good and her anger is all gone.

But should she freak out downstream because milk for her newborn won't come in, or some other oddity crops up, she can never sue Dr. Wonderful.
Oh, she could try to sue.

But Dr. Wonderful has all the 411 on Christina.

It was worth the few bucks and a 2 hour time investment in listening (and recording) .

I had to laugh.

Thanks for cruising by,
Riverwatch

Utter Helplessness

I have a younger brother whose battle with ALS (Lou Gehrig's disease) has brought him to a state of utter helplessness.
It has brought him closer to God.
It has brought his loving and devoted wife closer to God.

I grieve for my brother.
He was the person who took me hunting and taught me Silence when he was 14 and I was 15.
I only went hunting so I could gaze at the back of a brother I loved and talk with him.

bbc.com

He only took me hunting because even silent males love an audience (as long as she will shut up.)

He became financially successful enough to have lots of leisure time, and he used that time in hunting and becoming a known and respected wildlife photographer.

His abundant friends are mostly male and I know they didn't grow deep relationships by talking!
The silence of the hunt is a bonding thing.

He remained an avid outdoorsman up until his muscles wouldn't work well enough to move his legs.
Now, utter helplessness including the ventilator.

Don't we all experience utter helplessness at times?
Seeing the needs around us, don't we sense our own utter lack of ability to meet those needs?

Realizing our utter helplessness, and yet caring deeply, can bring us to a spiritual plane where we call upon God for intercession.
 Intercession becomes powerful as we lean totally upon God.

Submit to fate?  No.

Phillipians 4:6-7   He is near.  Have no anxiety but in everything make your requests known in prayer and petition and thanksgiving.  Then the peace of God, which is beyond our understanding will keep guard over your heart and your thoughts, in Christ Jesus.

Submit to fate?  No.  We work for the fulfillment of the good.  
We unfold our case before God through the continuation of prayers and petitions.  Being thus invested, we develop relationship with God and have peace no matter what the outcome.

No street corner prayers, please.
They just don't work as well as the ones we pray secretly.


I appreciate your visit and I hope your day is good.
Riverwatch

Awakened Souls

The Unconventional Mystic

If you have ever known an unconventional mystic,
you can rest assured you are one yourself.

What sets us apart is that we "recognize" each other
by the presence of the higher truth we sense.

Only Breath

by Jelaluddin Rumi

Not Christian or Jew or Muslim, not Hindu

Buddhist, Sufi, or Zen.

Not any religion or cultural system.

I am not from the East or the West, not out of the ocean

or up from the ground,

not natural or ethereal,

nor composed of elements at all.

I do not exist,

I am not an entity in this world or the next,

I did not descend from Adam and Eve or any origin story.

My place is placeless, a trace of the traceless.

Neither body or soul.

I belong to the beloved,

have seen the two worlds as one

and that one call to and know,

first, last, outer, inner,

only that breath breathing human being.

Happy to see you visited,

Riverwatch

My Lovely Skin

       

My Lovely Skin

When I was 10 and my mother was 35, I got my first taste of what I have come to call the “I hate my skin!” gibberish.

My youthful and pretty mom was all freaked about the skin on her elbows (“Old! Old!”) and the skin on her feet (“Old!” Old!”) She was so unhappy. 
fotosearch.com

Hating her skin.

There was nothing wrong with her skin that I could see. But apparently she saw changes that bespoke aging. She decided she would have to cover her arms to hide the shame of aging.

She was 35.

Her skin, olive & flawless, was beautiful all the days of her short life.jungleredwriters.com

Because of her, I decided early in life to LOVE my skin! (Hate my waistline, love my skin!)

Years of nursing would teach me not only to love my skin, but to appreciate it, and never talk bad about it.

The skin is the largest organ in our body.

It is our first line defense against everything.

It takes a beating!

It regulates our body temperature.

It produces vitamins and hormones.

It stores fat.

It prevents dehydration. We cannot live without it.

It is a sensory organ, sensing heat, cold, touch, pressure, pain.

It flakes its top layer off steadily and every 30 days the top layer is new.

Well, some of us don't flake very well so we need to buff the heels and elbows, etc.

Helping the top layer flake off is a nice thing to do for our skin.

S K I N  T O U C H

Our skin longs and needs to be touched. Babies who are fed, but not touched, will die.

As we age, we may become touch-deprived . 

Hugs, shoulder rubs, back rubs, foot rubs, rubbing our arms and legs with lotion, holding hands, sitting close to another person, manicures, pedicures, therapeutic massages & even swimming and bathing are ways to get skin touch. 

Having a spouse is a plus.

Perhaps having a lover on the side is an even bigger plus!  

Animals are good.

Not an animal lover?  Then just lay down on mother earth and hug her.  You will like it (if it is a warm day).  

Mud baths work for kids and dogs.  

Can't you just picture yourself and your old friends wallowing in mud!  

New playground for senior citizens: Public Mud Baths

Since our heads are getting lighter and our bottoms getting heavier, there would be no risk of our going down head first. 

Playgrounds for children usually say:  Under 12 years of age

Ours could say:  Bottom Heavy Seniors Only.

                          Thin Seniors: enter at your own risk.

A   M A N   W I T H O U T   H I S   S K I N

He was only 32.  The fire that half-way denuded him was a tragedy. He survived the fire, and it became our job at the local hospital to nurse him back to health. Those were the days before Burn Units and Specialized Teams.                                                 

We were so proud of the progress George made as we debrided his horrendous skinless wounds, bathed & dressed his gigantic skinless areas, and tried skin grafts. George required great quantities of pain meds to endure his treatments.                 

Three months into his hospitalization he suddenly died while up walking in his room. We had all become friends with George and we were devastated. And surprised.                                                  

 His doctor was not surprised because the extent of his burns was almost always fatal.                                                                                                     

Cause of death: Beri beri (a vitamin deficiency)                           

Yes, he was being given vitamin therapy. However, we need our skin for proper utilization                                                                

He just did not have enough skin.                                                   

                                            ***                                                             

No, I do not whine about my skin!

I am happy with my lovely, softly wrinkled skin.

Skin is GOOD.

I do nice things for my skin:

*I talk good about my skin.

*I oil my skin. 
If 3 months of daily oiling can turn a cracked stiff old DEAD leather saddle into a supple polished leather saddle, I figure oil can keep my LIVING hide from getting stiff and cracked!

*I take Vitamin E, the premier vitamin to protect skin.

*I take 5000 units...yes, 5000 units....of Vitamin D every day and I avoid sunshine because pre-cancer skin lesions have already visited me.

*I use my Japanese daughter-in-law's fresh concoction made in her Blendtec of cucumbers, green tea leaves and aloe vera to put on my face from time to time so that I feel springtime during and after the treatment.
I use Hyaluronic Acid with Vitamin C & E from TruSkin Naturals daily.  It makes a difference.  
It makes a huge difference!

telegraph.co.uk

I love my old skin. It is no longer peaches and cream, but SKIN IS GOOD. 

Besides, it has a right to look old. 
It has been taking a beating on my behalf for 26,434 days.

By the way, it IS possible to be a pretty old woman! 

Skin has nothing to do with it. 

It is all about the waistline, all about the waistline.
fabulousfaces.com

Oops, I am on the verge of whining!

Riverwatch, RN
Thanks for your visit.

The Rising Generation. God Bless Them.

*

a child's tale by Riverwatch, the substitute school teacher

HOW TO MAKE MAC AND CHEESE

oral recitation to her class

by Milly, age 8

“Not everybody likes her the way I do. Guess why. Probably because she thinks she is better than anybody, even me.

Except I don't think she thinks she is better than me. Because when I went scuba diving with my family and I told her, she said she scuba dived in Hawaii. When I asked her to tell me about it, guess what. I could tell she didn't know nothing at all about scuba diving. I think she just wanted to be like me.

But she's my best friend and takes me to her grandma's house at lunch time because it's right beside our school and we have permission to eat lunch there. Aleekeecondie eats lunch there every day but I only go on Mondays. Her grandma is nice and guess what. Aleekeecondie gets to be boss there. Her grandma is old. But nice.

So sometimes Aleekeecondie cooks. Sort of.

Once she made two hotdogs in the microwave. But they kind of blew up. We ate them anyway. They were sort of good.

The best was one day Aleekeecondie said she could make macaroni and cheese for us. Her grandma was at the store. Or doctors, or something. I forget.

Anyway, Aleekeecondie got a skinny blue box out of the cupboard and looked at the directions (all the boxes have directions, you know) and it said it takes 15 minutes and since we had 20 minutes we knew we could eat it in 5 minutes if she hurried up. 
She hurried up.

She knows how to work the stove and everything.

So Aleekeecondie put all the macaronies in a pan and poured some water on it. She asked me, “Do you think that is enough water?” I just laughed because I never made macaroni and cheese.

The stove burner was red hot and it cooked the macaroni fast! Not even 15 minutes.

Aleekeecondie took the pan by the handles with both hands, I think it was heavy, and poured it in a white strainer she set in the sink. That was to get rid of the water. She burned herself a little bit. Just one finger and she said, “Don't worry! Don't worry! Don't worry!” She was kind of yelling but smiling because she made the macaroni. She was very happy. Then she poured the macaronies back into the pan and put some butter and milk, I forget how much, on it and opened the little package of dried up cheese and dumped it in and stirred.

“It's done!”          dreamstime.com

And she scooped up some in my bowl and in her bowl.
Then she told me, “It's aldantay!”

She's always using big words. I think aldantay means crunchy. Probably. Or maybe it means it needs stirred some more. It was kind of good. Sort of crunchy. Actually very crunchy.

We didn't have time to eat it all because, you know, school.

Aleekeecondie kind of left a big mess. But her grandma doesn't care as long as she turns off the stove.

I wish my mom would let me cook.”

Forgiving and Making Up

               positivemed.com

"But things never are fully right again 

with anyone you have seen trying to kill you."

from his autobiography

Malcolm X

1925-1965

mytruesense.org

And we could add, "Who taught us that old is ugly or that old is bad?  Who taught us to hate the wrinkles on our skin or the texture of our hair?  We should ask ourselves who taught us to hate being what God has made us."  

Thank you for dropping by,

Riverwatch

"If I Were an Indian" by Riverwatch

    

If I Were an Indian

by Riverwatch

If I were an Indian,

I would walk in nature, talking to my friends, the trees.

   

If I were an Indian,

I would look at the inferiority of the pale faces and be at rest within my soul.

If I were an Indian,

I would look upward to the Great Spirit and rest in the peace that all will be well.

If I were an Indian,

I would drink only fresh flowing clear water from Mother Earth and bathe in it daily.

If I were an Indian,

I would be monogamous and I would die for my family if need be.

If I were an Indian,

I would mold families from the remains, the disinfranchized left-overs, the bits and pieces of humanity found on the landscape.

If I were an Indian,

I would listen more than I speak, so as to surprise the pale-faces.

If I were an Indian.

I am an Indian.

I sit under my silk tree and cry to my tree, my best friend.

I am an Indian.

I listen intently to one and all, including the trees.

I am an Indian.

My family is ever changing, ever growing, ever changing.

I am an Indian.

I find the waterfall and stand with head bowed, long dark hair loose over my face, letting the water splash over my back.

I am an Indian.

I am a hybrid.

I sit under my silk tree and cry outloud and noisey to my silk tree, sometimes screaming.

I am a hybrid.

I listen intently and speak many many words.

I am a hybrid.

I walk separate and apart in nature, fearing man yet knowing I am surrounded by rocks and trees who know me and wish me well.

I am a hybrid.

I long for fresh water even as I drink chemicals.

I long for the waterfall on my back and upon my dyed hair.

I am a hybrid.

I am too fierce to be monogamous and too proud to be polygamous.

I am a hybrid.

My family is ever changing, ever growing, ever changing, while I whine about change and judge the ungodly.

I am a hybrid.

Great Spirit, have mercy.

Remember me when I was an Indian and judge me not for the Way being lost.

bedazzled

videoblocks.com

The truth must dazzle gradually

or every man be blind.

                                            Emily Dickinson

Thanks for your visit,

Riverwatch

A Bad Day At The Ranch

Just been out to lunch with old friends.
We find we all are being over-run with family who "want to help us",
but ....you will find this strange (ho ho ho)..... somehow we are the helpers!"

Not that there is anything wrong with being a helper.

Just like there is nothing wrong with having a cup of coffee and then taking a nap.tastingtable.com



Emma Jean has been just great, still volunteering in spite of a major stroke (one year recovery but she recovered and you cannot tell she has had a stroke).  Oh, yes, she broke her femur (another one year recovery but  it overlapped some with the stroke recovery so it was like a blip-on-the-blip.)  Yeh, she now uses a cane, but don't a lot of people?  They don't ask you down at the DMV if you use a cane!
Maybe you are using a cane to whack stupid people over the head with!

Sorry.  I am just remembering my grandfather who couldn't walk but wasn't dressed until he had his cane in hand.
njadvocates.com

And Emma Jean almost bled to death from the Advil she took to manage the pain of the splintered femur, but she did recover!  I mean, and I can tell you this as a nurse, hemorrhage is life threatening, but if you don't hemorrhage to death you recover fairly quickly with a few transfusions and a bit of a rest.  Emma Jean recovered nicely after the crisis.

Her daughter (who needs a place to stay during her lengthy new home construction) has decided Emma Jean, age 80, is too infirm and "needs somebody to stay with her".
Since said daughter  has never been fastidious as her mother is, she has decided Emma Jean is too fussy about everything especially the kitchen.
Since she is "helping" her mom, she is excused from ever saying thanks.
Her mom is so lucky.
Emma has gained 30 pounds since we all went to lunch a couple of months ago!

Sue Ann and I are aghast as we listen to Emma Jean.

Sue Ann can relate because even though the cubs haven't moved in on her, she cannot take a cruise without them.
Not just a cub.
Several cubs.  Sue Ann pays for it all.  After all, they are "helping her" so she won't be alone in case she strokes out or something on her cruise!  God forbid she find an on-board lover to rob her of her money!

I was a little ashamed to share my pathetic little undramatic cub story, but I had to admit I am in the aging arena also.  Mundane of course, but right there with the crowd.  It is about family dinners.  It seems the family worries about me being alone.  Grandma needs company.  Open door policy, so here comes the dinner crowd.  Ok.  I'll rustle something up.  They all have fun, cousins relating with cousins and my grown-up cubs talking tech with each other and telling jokes I don't get......and then they all leave.
As I am cleaning up alone, I can't help but wonder why I skipped lunch with Sandy after church to have quality time with family.

Oh, that's right.  It was about not being alone.
pinterest.com

Sandy calls me up on the telephone and complains that her afternoon is spent on her tiny deck alcove watching the lizards play on the hillside rocks for hours.  Actually, it is just one lizard.
One lonely lizard. Zipping about.  Basking in the sun.  Resting on a flat rock.
Sandy is depressed.
She needs to get over it!!

Cheerio,
Riverwatch

PS  All three of us, the lunch-bunch, are without husbands in our old age.  As we sat there trolling the good old days, we realized the prime purpose of a husband....(be he the first one, ie father to the cubs, or a later one)...is to run those cubs off!!!
We women are very wedded to our cubs, whom we love dearly.


souloftruth.com

Sorry we are that we ever criticized that which protected us.

Thank you for your visit.

Longevity. What's the point? Interviews # 3 and # 4

This is a follow-up post to the 2/25/16

preceding post on What's the Point?

Longevity.  What's the point?
Interviews # Three and Four

Is it worth the bother and pain?  

Interview #3     She is so sweet.  The only thing we ever argue about is the status of her wealth.  She denies her wealth.  Tries to tell me she  has never been rich and just because she and her husband used to fly around in a Lear Jet doen't mean they themselves had money.


bbc.com

Well, she dresses like a million bucks at age 83!
The Lear Jet is long since gone, as is her husband, but the aura of wealth still clings to this happy elderly lady.

I try to tell her I am poor but she is having none of that fiddle faddle!
So I tell her it is all relative.  I merely am comparing myself to her.
I ask her if she knows the difference between an elderly lady, such as herself, and an old woman.
She doesn't know.  I give her a hint:  "I am an old woman."
Her response is a statement not an answer to my question!  She states I am much younger than she!

"The difference between an elderly lady and an old woman", I say, "is money!"

Not responding to my wisdom, she brings up her age again!
Once we make it to our 80's I guess we need to brag!
So I ask the question:  would you like to live to be 130?  
"Not really," she said.  "I want to be functional and I don't want to live longer than I am functional,  but if I have to, I will, just as long as the young people keep smiling at me!"
                                                   
Longevity.  It is worth it if young people keep smiling at us.
                   Old people's smiles are helpful, too,
                   but if we live long enough, all the old people we know are dead!
                   Need those young people to smile!
                                                       *



Interview #4     She is a nurse.  Aging, to be sure, but not so old she doesn't know which end is up.
I don't have to interview her because she is gonna tell me whether I ask or not.

usnews.com

"I tell people who whine about why they are still living, that they are living because they either have something yet to learn, or they have something yet to teach."



Ok,
Riverwatch

Thanks for dropping by.

Super Lifeguard

Things You Learn While Lifeguarding

americanpool.com

At 17 she is an experienced and stellar lifeguard.  She loves her job and prefers going in early for the 5am to 9am shift.  I asked Kennedy why ever would she want to get up so early to go to work.

Kennedy was clear.  "I go that early because that is when the old people and the dead beat athletes go and old people are nice.

Except the glutton who says she is  diabetic and has eaten up ALL our sugar pills we keep for swimmers who are getting low blood sugar.
 blubberbuster.com

She even demands a piece of your orange if you happen to be eating one.  "I need a piece of that orange", she says.  "I am diabetic!"

"Do you give her a piece of your orange?"

"Oh, yes.  I'd really like to give her a piece of my mind and tell her she is a glutton, but I don't want to be moved to the shift where families clog the pool.  I like the old people and dead beat athletes."

"What is a dead beat athlete?"

"A used-to-be athlete whose time is past and who is in the pool 

re-living the glory days.  Wearing a tight little speed-o with the muffin top hanging over the edge."

"What's a speed-o?"

"You don't know what a speed-o is??!  Well it is obscene.  Tiny.  One old guy wears one that is see through white!  Why would you expose the rest of the world to that body?!  And, oh, Grandma.  You should see them strip down!  So confident.  Very proud.  Gross."
mandyvstheworld.com

"Are any of the dead beat athletes women?"

"No.  The old women do water aerobics, or so they say.  Actually they hang in their floaties "getting exercise", but really it is just social hour.  Not that I blame them.  I tried to do their exercises in the deep end without a floatie, and I had to tread water constantly and I was so exhausted I decided to never try that again!  So they hang there talking, wearing atrocious bathing suits from out of the 90's.  Their suits are as loose and flabby as they are!  
                                                                               theblueroom.bupa.com.ua


I don't understand why they don't buy cute new bathing suits."
reddit.com

"But you like them?"

"Oh yes, old people are nice.  But sometimes the triatheletes come in and they are MEAN.   They are mean to each other and mean to lifeguards.

crispysharp.blogspot.com

I had to break up a fight once when two of them were fighting over a lane.  I like old people better."

And all the time we think we are invisible to the young,

Riverwatch

PS   When I asked her how she at her young age could break up a fight between triathalon men in their prime, she said "I have a whistle!!  And I blew it so hard everybody in the pool jumped!  Then I climbed down and walked over to the athletes and bent down and talked to them like they were children.  'Here', I said, 'I bet this lane would work for you, and if you took this other lane, I bet that would work out.'  And so they took the lanes I pointed out and the fight was over."