Betty Moses

Have you noticed all those pretty tops women are wearing now — the ones with the cutouts over the shoulders?

They are so much in style that they have been given the name “cold shoulder” shirts.

For those of us that are over a certain age, there’s a good reason this name has been attached to this certain garment.

They freeze your shoulders.

I bought two of them — really pretty ones at that — before I discovered that my poor shoulders have a tendency to get very cold when they are exposed.

Another sign that I am indeed over the hill.

I have been what you call “hot natured” all my life, wearing coats and jackets only when frost was on the ground.

As a young woman when I lived in the mountains, I slept right by an open window, breathing in the wonderful chill of the night air.

I swam in icy creek water, feeling energized by the shock of the cold stream on my body.

I was not hesitate to walk in the rain when a spring shower caught me unaware.

At 82, my inner thermostat has taken a drastic turn.

Now my afghan has become my best friend.

I carry it everywhere I go when I’m at home except for the kitchen. It’s difficult to cook when wrapped in an afghan.

There’s a spare in the living room and another one in my bedroom.

I even have an afghan in the trunk of my car, ready for when I visit my daughter.

She and my son-in-law enjoy an invigorating temperature of 65 degrees year-round.

I shiver to think of it.

And to be caught in the rain is now a chilling experience when cold drops hit my aged back.

Now I know why older women in movies are shown with high neck collars and crocheted shawls wrapped around their shoulders.

They’re cold.

Time has changed more than just the temperature of my body.

My balance has gone kaput.

I know that some agile ladies are still able to cut a rug in their 90s, but a gyration or two and this lady would be on the rug.

Maybe if I had danced a little longer and a little harder when I was young, I might still be dancing now.

I may whine a little about body temperature and agility, but I still consider myself a lucky woman.

I have my health, a family that I love very much and a job that I thoroughly enjoy, working with a wonderful group of friends who help make it a joy for me to go to work every morning.

Between grandkids, good books and Netflix, I get all the entertainment I need when I’m not at work, so life is good.

Now, where did I put that sweater?

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