Some days my friends who I spend my days with remind me that I'm a bit old around the edges. Now, I'll grant them that, but I'm also not a relic of the 19th century American West either, like this black buggy. It's in pretty good shape and looks like it could still ferry the young Laura Ingalls to town. Age is a relative thing. Yes, some days I feel old, but most days no. Spending your days with early teens has that special way of rejuvenating the spirit. Some days I look old, but really the mirror, I feel, has been quite fair with me. Some days I eat old, but I like to think that salads help me keep my boyish good looks. Some days I talk old, but I'll let you in on a secret. I get good laughs that way. Some days I think old, but an old, dried up curmudgeon, I ain't. I'll let others talk that talk. I'll use my energy spryly and keep that glass half full. I ain't ready for a cane and rest home yet! Like the forthysia, I can be explosive and oh so energetic!