Fab at Forty - am I?


So, forty finally arrived.  It looks alien on the screen to me. Me, 40!  It sounds so mature.  Grown up. Like I should be able to knit.  Or at least sew a button on.

I know you want to know whether I was indeed Fab at Forty.  Well of course I couldn’t say…but I can say that after ten months of counting and pointing and shaking my thang at Zumba, I’ve managed to knock a couple of stone and a couple of dress sizes off.  Never got to my holy grail 12 though, so at least I’ve still got something I can put on my New Year list.

After not knowing what to do, I decided to have a party, where enough people duly oohed and aahed about my reinvention to have made it worthwhile.  Three generations of family raised a glass, and friends old and new put on their gladrags and helped me have a lovely time.  But now what?  I’ve been planning for months, buying shimmery and glimmery doo-dahs to put some fab in the very functional function room.  I’ve glittered up invitations, sourced the perfect dress, found a mini-me version for Daughter, made paper pom poms…and now it’s done and dusted.  I’m without project.  I am suffering list-less-ness.  Well of course there’s a list of kinds – it’s Christmas time for goodness sakes, who operates without a list?!  But there’s no overriding list, no pressing project…and I don’t like it.  I’ve got plenty to do, with some list potential – no Christmas cards written, no presents wrapped (not even all bought – eek!), and no comprehensive outfit plans for me and Daughter, not a morsel planned for the Boxing Day Buffet (that probably won’t be a buffet this year – too much pastry and clock watching for all those little mini fancies that pretty much all taste the same!) – but no next project.  

So what should it be?  My wise friend J would tell me to just be.  Be present in the moment.  Good advice.  But I do like a plan.  So until it’s time to start on the summer holiday plans, I’m going to have to stretch out my mini lists.  But I might just get a brochure…

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

I think I have to contact you...

Hello! Long time no new blog!  Sorry about that.  And nothing to get excited about this time either.  You will have been innundated with GDPR emails and I'm about to join the queue. I don't do anything with your email addresses.  In fact, I don't actually know who you are (but hello there!) as it all happens by magic when  you put your email address into the box.  Thanks for that!  I don't have a list and therefore can't do anything with it.  Some of you will have worked out by now that I don't have the techie know-how even if it was possible! So, my privacy policy is that I can't see who you are, and therefore I won't and can't do anything with your information.  However, I think I'm obliged to suggest you unsubcribe if you no longer wish to receive my irregular ramblings.  If that's the case, thank you for reading and I'll miss you (well, the thought of you, with me not knowing who you are!) I don't make any money from my bl
Read more

In which I have no plans for Easter...

I find the Easter break a bit of a strange one.   It has far less appeal when every food item has a weight-loss plan value as soon as you look at it.   Yes, that hot cross bun dripping in butter might be divine, but it costs about the same as stir-fried chicken and rice…or 3 gins!   I love chocolate, but an article in my weight-loss mag haunts me with values of 12 plus for Easter eggs – not far off half of my daily allowance.   And yes, of course I’d eat it all in one go! In my single days, me and Sister would hot-foot it to Cyprus.   The first year we were promised glorious weather, and shivered for a week.   One of our favourite haunts became a bar with an open fire.   But it was always a fantastic holiday.   We were wise in subsequent years and packed a bit better (only a bit).   Picking up fiancees, husbands, mortgages and children put paid to the Easter jaunt, so now it’s all about searching for the Perfect Day Out.   But we’re hostages to the weather and Easter opening hours
Read more

Sunny Day

I love a bit of sunshine.   It’s good for whatever ails you.   It’s lovely where I am today.   I’ve just been across the campus and the sun wrapped me in a perfect warm hug.   It’s not sweaty hot, but it’s exactly the type of weather that makes you reluctant to be sitting at a screen trying to untangle an untangle-able timetable.   The perfect activity on a day like today is to be snoozing in the sun.   There’s something about a sun lounger and warm sun that leads to the perfect, restful sleep.   In terms of sleep hobbies, it’s my number one. Before I had Daughter, my entire summer holidays would be spent in the garden with a pile of magazines, knowing full well that if I closed my eyes, the sun would soothe me to sleep.   Boyfriend/Fiance/Husband (delete as appropriate for the time) would come home from work and ask if I’d been asleep all day.   I used to say no, but we both knew I certainly had been for a good chunk of the day! There’s very little restful snoozing in the sun
Read more