The Old Gray Mare Just Ain't What I Used To Be

Once we were back in our home in Plano, Gerry ended my birthday in the best way possible – with grunting. I did some grunting myself. Picking up my arm and turning it over, he looked at my watch.

“Nearly an hour,” he said, not too surprised.

“Are you timing yourself?” I looked at my watch. "Thirty-five minutes does not an hour make. But it's still a lot."

He turned to look at me. “You know, you were right there with me and you’re no spring chicken.”

“Gosh, Gerry, thanks! I can’t believe you’re saying that to me on my birthday,” I said, leaning on him. “The old gray Mare just ain’t what she used to be.”

“I get the feeling she’s a lot better than she used to be,” he said, making me blush as he played with the tiny cross on my neck, and I nodded.

“It was never this level,” I agreed. “Thank you for my truck. The shocks are great.” Gerry opened the back door of the Defender and climbed out naked – except for his socks – and then helped me out and I pulled out the shearling blanket that came with my new utility vehicle and he wrapped it around me. He picked me up and carried me out of the garage and into the house because I didn’t have any socks on. Or anything else, for that matter.

I was so cold because November is nippy in north Texas. I wonder how that word 'nippy' came about?

Happy birthday to me!

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Copyright Mare Loch 2022 © Excerpt from Orange Grove: The Reformation of a Midlife Wife by Mare Loch. All rights reserved.

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