Older and braver .... or more stupid?

I think I'm getting braver, the older I get. (not to say more loquacious) I said NOT to say that! When I was a young woman I was terrified of being alone at night, once married. Strangely, I didn't mind going 'up the Junction' to see the pictures, on my own (despite the weirdos that also attended and did strange things to the back of my seat), when, alone, I lived on the edge of Clapham Common. Nor did I mind walking said streets ... I mean just walking along them, not walking them, excuuuuuuse me .... in the dark. Once I was married though I was scared of uncurtained windows in the dark and spiders and spending a night alone. Truth be told, when I moved in here I finally made some cafe curtains for the back cos I got fed up of feeling scared in the kitchen, feeling exposed, I suppose ... strange for a naturist, huh? But I have learned to deal with spiders and of course I learned to spend nights alone. Many moons ago, on the very odd occasion when I was alone, once, I had the phone (on a long lead) right by the bed, the scissors and a pepper pot to hand. I'd probably have ended up cutting the phone line and blinding myself with the pepper had I had to use it. I also borrowed a friend's dog but I was doubly nervous of the doggie and to calm it I was stroking its head, cos every time it heard a noise it growled. When my arm got tired of stroking, the dog growled at me to continue, so I had to take doggie and basket back to its owners around 11pm cos I was a nervous wreck. Nowadays though if I hear/see something that disturbs me I just seems to HAVE to go sort it out! A few months back, in one of the towns I used to visit, I was with a group of 3 local councillors and a couple of other stalwarts of the town (though I probably weighed more than all of them put together), when a couple of young lads started throwing a chair around in the street, which they'd nicked off a Sally Army skip. I watched in amazement as these teenies created havoc and no one did anything but stand and watch them. So off I toddle, OY, PUT THAT RUBBISH BACK ON THE SKIP! I yelled at 'em. And they did and slouched off, sniggering as they turned to look back. But I stood my ground and off they went. This evening I could hear my back gate swinging, or being swung, while I was washing up. Could have been the wind or could have been something else. I was washing up and had a knife in my hand but decided that since the last two times I rushed out of the house with a knife in my hand and a) ... the gas man thought I was going to do for him and ran to his car and wound the window up quick fast (I'd only been peeling spuds and wanted to tell him something I'd just remembered) and b) ... running out of the house to chastise Tora for climbing too high on the climbing frame (which only I thought was too high, not her!), I fell over a toy and to the ground and saw the knife coming toward my heart (depending where that is or if, indeed, I even have one), threw out my arm, landed on my milk-swelled booby and got mastitis, unless that's a boil you get behind your ear. So Where was I? So, I put the knife down and picked up the lemon sproggler, juicer, what-have-you and decided I could deliver a sproggling blow with that quite effectively instead, threw open the door and .... well, of course, there was nothing there but the gate had been unlatched. I don't know if I'm getting braver, or if fear pitch just gets to a level where I don't want the fear and acting releases it? I once thought I was going to be mugged, in Geneva and fear gave wings to my feet. Yep, I ran away, but given the fact I thought the guy might be after my handbag, I was hardly going to hit him with it and let him grab it, was I???? These are my closing thoughts afore I go to bed with my honeyed malted milk drink. And maybe I should remember that I'm 4' 11" tall (short) and not 6' 4" ! :)