The second half of my life

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Not that I'm planning to live till I'm one hundred twenty years old. Only that for however long I reside on this planet, it's as though I'm starting over....

My birthday has come and gone, but my goodness it was wonderful! Shared with a variety of beloveds, the weather cooperated, and we celebrated in myriad ways, with an old episode of Great British Bake Off enjoyed by all. That series is one my grandkids all love, and we watched with glee as Martha recovered from an awful tart in the signature challenge in taking first place in the technical by baking poached pears wrapped in pastry. Kate was that week's star baker, but we said goodbye to Norman in a season made perhaps before my eldest grandchildren were even born.

Lego flowers I received for my birthday; I completed bags 1-4 (out of ten) last night, might finish this ensemble later today!

Hence is the basics of aging; we can watch reruns on TV via any method, but time keeps marching, and I came up with the end of "The March", a fictional tune currently without words in The Enran Chronicles. Yet it figures prominently in that series, and the fictional BP-CPR band just made an appearance in my new novel, of which I wrote a chapter today, kind of a belated birthday gift to myself, lol. And now that lunch is over, I'm killing time until I have the gumption to mop the kitchen, HAH!

How to describe what I claimed to my most of my kids over the weekend, that I feel like I'm embarking on the second half of my life; I truly don't wish to live another six decades, DUDE! I'd be happy with two. Yes, after I turn eighty, if I live that long, then well.... Maybe by then I'll have wrapped up The Enran Chronicles (LOL), maybe I'll have used all my fabric. The chickens will most likely have passed on; hens live upwards of twelve years on average, but there's always those that beat the averages. However long I last, that's fine with me. And if I've actually completed The Enran Chronicles, I'll be very grateful.

A marvelous shot of Owl Chicken, courtesy of my husband. She's looking quite thoughtful for a hen.

It's a little weird being on this side of sixty; approaching it I felt like age didn't matter, but then I was harping on it enough, and now it still doesn't matter, but in a different way, in that today's Tuesday, nearly the end of April, spring thoroughly in charge as it's still light well after eight p.m., not to mention it's bright out before six a.m. It's like...life is short, Daylight Savings Time notwithstanding, and best to not worry about that which is out of my control. To concentrate on love and joy. To embrace how little English paper piecing I accomplish compared to Past Me, and not bug Future Me about her daily tasks. Because we have chickens now, when last year we didn't. That I write/revise less than before but lately have published a lot of books, so one never knows how the balance of this, that, or the other will affect the here and now. Now I have to finish this post, then put laundry in the dryer, then mop the kitchen. Then I might iron some new fabrics, hey-hey-hey just to admire their prettiness, but not because I'm going to immediately cut into them. Or maybe I will....

In aging, we are bound to what our bodies and minds permit us to do well, or not so gracefully. We do what we can, not all the times what we wish. But love takes no certain amount of physical ability or mental strain. Loving others, which at times starts with ourselves, is one of the easiest tasks, unless it's geared toward someone we can't fathom comprehending. Then it's a little harder, like taking stairs at the end of busy day. Still, it's not impossible. That's the kind of thing I want to concentrate on during this second half of my life; doing what previously seemed difficult. Doing what my heart knows is best. Doing things in love. Love. I want the rest of my life to be steeped in it!

Granny Janet, AKA Bluey Heeler, another birthday pressie. Janet/Bluey lives on my desk, reminding me how valuable are giggles and grins.

In the meantime, that kitchen isn't going to mop itself, LOL. May this last week of April bring you joy, and perhaps rainbows too. It's spring here in North America, a marvelous time of year. 

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