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My get up and go

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Marge Bradshaw and Bob Wingfield. SUBMITTED

How do I know my youth has been spent? Well, my get up and go has got up and went. But, in spite of it all, I'm able to grin, when I recall where my get up has been.

Old age is golden, so I've heard it said, but sometimes I wonder when I go to bed, with my ears in a drawer and my teeth in a cup, and my eyes on a table until I wake up. 'Ere sleep dims my eyes, I say to myself," Is there anything else I should lay on the shelf?" But I'm happy to say as I close the door, my friends are the same, perhaps even more!

When I was young, my slippers were red. I could kick my heels right over my head. But as I grew older, my slippers were blue but I could dance the whole night though. Now I'm older, my slippers are black. I walk to the corner and puff all the way back.

The reason I know my youth has been spent, my get up and go has got up and went. But I really don't mind when I think with a grin of all of the grand places my get up has been.

Since I have retired from life competitions, I busy myself with complete repetition. I get up each morning and dust off my wits, pick up the paper and read the obits. If my name's not there, I know I'm not dead, so I eat a good breakfast and go back to bed.

Ms. Bradshaw is 89 years young, still the life of the party and still enjoying dancing.

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