Senior Matters Information Help

    Light and weighty issues about seniors and hair coloring                               Photo by Menuyert Gonullu from Pexels I began to color my hair in my early forties My sister started coloring her hair when she was a mere 35 years old.   Premature greying runs in the family.   Solution? Dye or color it to its original beautiful color. In our case black.   When I started to grey I felt compelled to do it. Indian Brown-face combined with white hair didn’t do much for my self-confidence. Hence color it (back) black I did.   Now at 63 years, I don’t have such compelling reasons. But coloring my hair has become a habit.   I have a friend who was ambivalent about covering up her grey hair. She took the dyeing route, then stopped after a decade of doing so.  Her hair turned snowy white. Many people did not recognize her. After a couple of years, her snowy-white hair settled into a vague whitish-grey pallor.   I have observed the same phenomenon with my neighbor. Sta

                                                                    Image from Canva I have just returned from my first session at the gym.   Three years into my retirement I eased into a relaxed life. A little bit of cooking, some cleaning, lots of reading, and quite a lot of TV & movies. Some writing and going out on occasion. That summed up my post-retirement routine   The kilos kept adding on and soon I was at my heaviest ever.  I started walking indoors.  I have to confess that with age came an enhanced fear of walking outside, on the streets.  I had fallen on two occasions, one when I was in my early sixties and the other a few months later. The latter was an embarrassing one, in front of many people!  Worse, due to the impact of the fall, my pants tore at the kneecap. .. Ugh.  My gym was located 3 streets away from my home.  They were crowded streets. Milling with pedestrians and roadside vendors. Add to that speeding, motorbikes and scooters, cars, huge buses, small motore

      Photo by RDNE Stock project: https://www.pexels.com/photo/woman-in-black-dress-holding-white-        disposable-cup-7020543/ Seniorhood has its pluses- No Deadlines, Less Pressure, Less Stress! I was an awkward self-conscious child.  My mother told me in later years that I would just latch on to her as a toddler and not let go. In early childhood too I was happiest playing at home with my four siblings School brought with it classmates and my first close friends.  Nevertheless, I was happy to run home to my parents, my brothers and sisters, my maternal grandfather who lived with us, our cat, dog, and chickens.  Our house was spacious with a front garden and backyard giving us kids lots of space to run around and play. I was self-sufficient. From the age of 8 or 9 years, reading became my hobby. It introduced me to a fascinating world into which I was happy to enter.  As a child, I read almost all the books in the school library and became a member of another private library