older than dirt

i had a landmark birthday this year. i celebrated the day - nay, the weekend! - with glee and wild abandon. i joked about my age, and embraced my newly grayed hair. but, now that the hoopla is over and reality sets in, i just don't know how this could have happened. i remember my mother and my grandmother at this age, and they were so old! just a few short years ago, i was a teenager, a young wife, a working mother. now here i am faced with home safety matters, downsizing, and end of life decisions. i'm too young for this to happen!

my dad used to quip about his age...i'm older than dirt...i don't buy any green bananas...i have suits older than you...and i've started to adopt them. so happy big, ole birthday to me! now where are my teeth and my housedress?

late winter snow

just as roads and pathways were finally clear of snow and ice, just as i changed from heavy gloves to leather dress ones, just as i was able to wear shoes outside instead of boots, this happens overnight. it's another nor'easter for this area, on top of one just a few days back. but again with this storm, we got lucky...lots and lots of snow, but it's warm inside, there's power, and there's no need to complain. forecasts of snow this time of year, when everyone is so ready for spring green and warmth, are hard to deal with. but it's always so magical when the snow actually does arrive. so i'll make another cup of tea, sit at my window and work, and continue to be distracted by the swirling beauty of fat flakes and the quiet elegance of a march snow. 

snow ball

the day after a fresh snow, the not-so-little girl wanted to play, to be outside. the snow was so deep, it was chilly, and i had things to do. but outside we went, she running and jumping like a pup through new powder, me dragging my heavy-booted feet and wondering how dinner would get made. we threw this orange ball for the better part of an hour, back and forth, back and forth across the wide expanse of snow. we whipped the ball across the surface making bowling ruts in the snow. we carved out circular depressions for targets and held our breath as the ball circled the perimeters and rolled in. our bodies warmed as our whooping echoed into the woods and through the early evening air. i worried only momentarily that we might disturb neighbors. this was too much fun to be quiet.

as sure as i sit here typing, i know a time will soon come when she's too old to play, when she's not willing to be wet and cold, when friends will replace me, and visits will go to classmates' houses and not mine. i know i will long for days like this one. so dinner be damned, i'll take play like this whenever it comes my way.

thrift store gift

each christmas, the girl and i exchange one gift that's been gently used or repurposed. this year, i gave her a spice rack from our community services store, the local place where we have always donated used clothes, books, and household items. i got it at a half price sale, so it was only a dollar. i was thrilled to find it and knew it would look good in the kitchen she had been renovating. 

fulfilling my christmas wish for colorful scarves with metallic elements, the girl bought me this long teal scarf, not a color i'd normally wear, but one that now looks fantastic with my recently-turned white hair. it has metallic threads - and even sequins! as i wrapped it around my shoulders, the girl told me it was my thrift gift, that she had bought it at goodwill. even better!! 

to get used to the color, i wore the scarf first to work, a few hours only - and yes, i loved it! so i wore it two days later to an important meeting filled with people i did not know. midway through the meeting, my fingers found a stiff strip across one end of the scarf, just above the beautifully tied fringe. what was this thing? i lowered the section to my lap and surreptitiously tried to peel off the sticker. it would not budge. i turned the section into my lap and tried to hide it for the rest of the meeting.

that night at home, i inspected the sticker and realized its purpose; i had seen tabs like this on my own father's clothes. on it was a first initial and a last name. this scarf belonged to a woman who lived in a communal situation, someone who shared storage and laundry facilities with others. she wore this to dinner at her independent living community. she put it on for movie nights in the common room of an assisted living facility. she wore it when she wanted to look pretty for visitors to the nursing home. and the tag was prominently placed to make it easier to return the scarf to her should it get misplaced or taken away for cleaning. 

i have tried to remove this tag, and cannot. it must be glued - pulling will only rip the delicate threads of the weave. so i wear the scarf with the tag strategically placed inside, against my shirt and hope that it stays that way. and each time i wear it, i take with me the memory of a w. schoolcraft, another white-haired woman, one who had impeccable taste in scarves. 

pretty papers

when she was a child, the girl made a present for me in school, and wrapped it in potato print paper that she stamped herself. every christmas since, for at least three decades, i wrap one of her presents in this same paper, saved from one christmas to the next. and now the not-so-little girl continues this tradition. this christmas, she made her own decorated brown paper and wrapped one of my gifts in it. so today, as i pack away the holidays, i carefully smooth it and wrap the paper around a discarded paper towel tube, to keep it nice - so i can reuse it for many christmases to come.