bogeyandruby

There’s this neck cream that keeps popping into my social media feed, probably because I keep clicking on it to see what it’s all about. I mean, it’s called “The Elevator”, people. It promises to lift sagging skin and to firm and restructure the neck and décolleté area. And it’s only $122 plus tax and international shipping.

I remember being puzzled by the title of Nora Ephron’s book, I Feel Bad About My Neck and Other Thoughts on Being a Woman, when it was first released in 2006. I remember wondering if she’d had some sort of accident, maybe severe whiplash from a car accident or maybe her flowing dressing gown had caught fire one morning while she was frying her bacon causing second degree burns to her neck (I actually worried about this after reading an article on the dangers of frying food while wearing certain fabrics).

Back then I couldn’t imagine feeling bad about my neck when there were so many other body parts to worry about. Fast forward to present day and jolly has turned jowly and my naturally chubby cheeks do their own version of downward dog when I assume the yoga pose of the same name.

I have bought creams here and there, ones that moisturize, more for the relief they bring to dry and cracked skin than any age-defying promises. Oh, and sunscreen, definitely sunscreen because I am half white and would rather not deal with crusty age spots or skin cancer.

That being said, I am extremely lazy when it comes to any kind of skin care routine. For years, I washed my face with the same soap I used on my body. In fact, I only discovered facial cleansers sometime in my mid-fifties.

Growing up we had three products in our family bathroom: ivory soap, head and shoulders shampoo, and crest toothpaste. If we ran out of shampoo, my parents would tell us to use soap. When the soap got too small to create a lather, it was melded to a new bar of soap. Apart from those products, my mother had a jar of dippity do in the medicine cupboard and my dad had some Hai Karate aftershave cologne that he poured on in copious amounts when they went out dancing once a month.

Luckily, I didn’t grow up in a household that was overly conscious about looks so any self consciousness about appearances didn’t come from there. In fact, I am pretty sure it came from reading Seventeen back in the 1970s. My father was naturally vain with no need for external praise and my mother, despite having a long scar across her cheek from a childhood surgery, knew she was cherished. As children we were loved unconditionally, on good hair days and bad. My mother, more concerned with economy than fashion, did have a penchant for dressing my brother and I in matching outfits for the first three years of his life (I am two and a half years older).

While I may be tempted to buy these fancy products because I can be a sucker for good marketing as much as the next person, I know I won’t spend more than five minutes getting ready in the morning and certainly no more than five minutes getting ready for bed. Considering my dental hygiene routine takes up about four of those five minutes and is non-negotiable, that leaves about one minute for moisturizer. My moisturizer is conveniently a three-in-one product: moisturizing, anti-wrinkle and contains sunscreen. Very efficient and time saving. As for other products I use, I am addicted to this lip balm. I have been for thirty plus years and have one in every room of my house, purse and pocket. I also love L’Occitane Almond Delicious Hands cream, a real treat. And lastly, I apply this lovely cream by Lush to my hands and forearms right before bed every night. The lavender scent is divine and it relaxes me right before bed. An extra fifteen seconds to my routine.

In summary, the older I get, the less maintenance I am interested in apart from those routines that will keep me healthy and feeling zen. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t begrudge anyone who spends time and money on pampering. Go for it, enjoy! I personally haven’t felt any benefits when it comes to anti-aging products but I do feel younger when I eat well, exercise and get a good night’s sleep.

**************************************************************

Today was a dreadful day to be on the road as a home care worker. We had freezing rain all day yesterday but with the temperatures a few degrees above zero Celsius, I was able to navigate the icy paths fairly well with my trusty work-issue crampons. Overnight however, the temperatures dipped to minus fourteen with heavy winds and the ice was thick and hard today. As a result my work crampons were completely ineffective, the cleats gliding on the ice instead of gripping. I actually had to cancel one visit as I barely made it from the driver’s side of my car to the passenger door to retrieve my work bag. I was on an incline with no foothold being pushed by the wind and it was about a fifty meter walk to the staircase that would lead to another icy pathway to the entrance of the condo. When I called the client’s wife, a lady well into her eighties, to let her know, she very sweetly asked if she should come out and help me. She was more put out by the fact that she wouldn’t be able to give me the chocolates she bought me for the holidays than her husband missing out on his exercise program. At lunch time, I grabbed my walking poles from home and that helped with my afternoon clients.

Speaking of chocolate, I was waiting at a traffic light on my way to a client when a truck crossed my path. Its cab was the exact colour of milk chocolate. It was like a slow Cadbury milk chocolate train rolling through. I can’t tell you how much that cheered me up, even though I only eat dark chocolate these days. It was a slow meditation and with my seat and steering wheel warmers on, I almost forgot about the very bad weather day we were having.