When you get to be of a certain age, you notice physical changes creeping in: more aches and pains, forgetfulness, napping more, less physical strength and agility, decreased appetite, poor eyesight, and insomnia - to name a few.
About this time you'll be cursing the number of steps in your home, the weight of your vacuum cleaner, the length of your driveway, the height of the shelves and toilets, the width of the doors, the slippery tub, and the tendency you have of tripping over throw rugs.
What seemed like a good idea when you were 30 is dangerous when you're 60. Oh, that you would have put more thought into furnishings, tools and design of your place. So, for those of you who still have all your faculties in decent shape, here's a few suggestions:
Make all doorways at least 36" wide. Install lever type handles instead of turning knobs. Either forget the bathtub/shower combination or have both in your bathrooms. Use a rough surfaced ceramic tile on floors instead of the shiny/glossy crap. If you're going to use throw rugs get the type that have non-skid backs and no fringe. Make friends with nightlights and large numerals on clocks, calendars and remote controls. Learn what the word ergonomic means. It's much easier to open a can, peel carrots, slice apples and do countless other tasks if your hands aren't cramping. If you have carpeted areas, chairs on casters are a good thing. If you have bare floors, chairs on casters are an invitation rock, rattle and eventually roll over. Invest in cloths with snaps instead of buttons and be willing to discover how comfy sweatpants are. My 80 year old father resists sweatpants so all his jeans have a metal keyring attached to the zipper pull.
On a positive note, growing older helps you realize that 9/10th of what you thought was important at 30 is pure crap at 60. And keeping up with the Jones becomes second nature as all your friends are talking about medical appointments, the cost of prescriptions and how bland everything tastes.
Well, that's all for now folks. It's time for a nap, Treesong