The year was 1984, the popularity of the book When I’m an Old Woman I Shall Wear Purple exploded on the scene. I rushed right out and bought it for mother, thinking she would enjoy it, but she was not amused.
And now that I’m old(er) I’m thinking perhaps I should read it. I have a better sense of humor than ma did, so I’m going to drag it out and give it a read. It’s going on my bucket list, yep, it is...
When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn't go and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick the flowers in other people's gardens . . .
The ending of the poem , that’s the best part...
But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.