If I only had a brain...freeze

Yawn. That's what my blog has been lately. Not because my life is a yawn but because I just...well, I just...I don't know what I just. I do know I enjoyed doodling the artwork you see on my blog. Maybe it's a metaphor for my life. Lots of interesting things flowering in my brain but very little of it fully colored in or complete.

We've had some relatives in. I burned myself on another cinnamon crunch bagel. That's becoming a weekly ritual. Maybe next time I'll go with something with less topping that can stick to my thumb and burn a hole in me before I can shake it off. I entered another writing contest just for the practice. The gig at United Way is good. We are getting to the heart of the campaign so it's rallies here and rallies there; Air Force base, police station, call center, and lots and lots of schools. That's where I've taken my dog and pony show lately. Hopefully along the way I've raised a little awareness and a little money.

I'm reading "The Secret Life of the Grown-Up Brain" by Barbara Strauch. It's subtitled "The Surprising Talents of the Middle-Aged Mind." I'm still looking for those talents. The other day I got out a pair of socks and my shoes to go for a walk. Once I finished tieing my right shoe I realized I was no longer holding my left sock. I looked everywhere - even retraced my recent steps and shook out my clothes. I looked everywhere except my left foot, which is where my sock was. I had already put it on. Does anyone else scare themselves like that or is it just me? Anyone? Hello?

What was I saying? Oh yes. So the author of this book quotes Laura Carstensen, director of the Stanford Center on Longevity who said: "I'd have to say from what we know now, that the middle-aged brain is downright formidable."

Really? Can it be true? Strauch says "Most of us, while beset with a normal level of middle-aged muddle, are, in fact, quite normal. What's more, we're quite smart." OK, I like that. I'll go with that.

I do think my mind leans more towards creativity and less towards sweating the small stuff and the details. Another thought from Strauch:

"A friend who is a poet told me recently that she does not think that she could have written the poetry she does until she had reached her mid-fifties -- until her brain had reached its formidable age. 'It feels like all the pieces needed to come together,' she said. 'It's only now that my brain feels ready. It can see how the world fits together -- and make poetry out of it.'"

Hmm. Think I'll go ponder while I watch Modern Family. Now if I could only remember where I put the remote.