We’re a weird family at times, with weird word-usage within our ranks. For example, whenever as a family we received a box of chocolates, or one of those collections of assorted biscuits you often get around Christmas time, a common question when offered to choose from the box would be ‘Where’s the map?’.
I do appreciate people usually associate maps with complex roads and other topographical features showing distances and directions between one place and another but in our family a map, when reduced to its simplest form, is basically a piece of paper that shows you the way to something. Road map, treasure map, food map…
So for example in a box of chocolates, if you want to avoid the random Forrest Gump approach (‘Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you’re gonna get’) to know exactly where the scrumptious coffee cream or silky dairy fudge nestles within, you consult the map provided within the box to find out.
Or alternatively, you may wish to take pot-luck with your choice apart from the nutty ones (me), or the soft-centres (my husband) so you would need to be aware of those particular chocolates to which to give a wide berth to avoid confectionary disappointment. Mind you, if you do happen to choose one you don’t like, it’s always a good excuse to have another ‘just to take the bad taste away…!’
PS Hmmm… Having just finished writing this post a quote has sprung to mind from TV programme ‘Endeavour’ – in my head I can clearly hear the voice of Oxford City policeman Detective Inspector Fred Thursday say dryly of rival police force Oxford County ‘County couldn’t find their arse with two hands and a map’ – ha ha ha ha… the imagery still makes me smile! 😀
Sometimes I really enjoy being thoroughly middle-aged – these days I find when I’m out in public I’m almost invisible most of the time, a regular menopausal fat and frumpy fifty-something Mrs A N Other with poorly-styled hair and unfashionable but always-comfortable clothes.
I mean, no-one checks me out or pays me any attention any more when I’m walking down the street – no annoying wolf whistles or cat-calling from men, no sidelong judgemental glances from other women – surely that freedom to just be myself without comment or criticism has to be a good thing…?
At other times part of me bemoans my long-lost youth. My previously voluptuous curves have lost their ample firmness and fallen foul of gravity, my skin has sagged, wrinkled and dulled, my blonde hair faded to grey. Menopause has in many ways left me feeling as flat as my failing female hormone levels. I feel a little lost, in limbo, emotionally entangled in an existential identity crisis I didn’t even know existed until it hit me…
My three amazing children are now all adults, well into their 30s – in fact my son turns 37 tomorrow – and I have six beautiful grandchildren helping to turn my on-off middle-aged misery into myriad magical moments. Nothing can possibly beat this fantastic family feeling, and I know that without doubt my lost youth is ultimately someting to celebrate, not mourn… ❤
Right now I’m filled with a heady mix of excitement, exhilaration, and exhaustion. My brain feels frazzled but fizzing with fun ideas.
We moved into our new house in Inverness just over a week ago and it’s been pretty much non-stop for us ever since, unpacking and sorting out previously stored belongings; sourcing and arranging utilities; researching potential new furniture, soft furnishings, wallpaper and paint in anticipation of future changes… and in between, a constant conveyor belt of household shopping and cooking and washing clothes and living everyday normal life to the full.
Both daughters (who live close by) have already visited with their partners and young children, and thankfully everyone loves the house as much as we do! Son (who lives in Paisley, not far from Glasgow) is due to visit us closer towards the end of the year. My husband and I wake up every morning amazed that we actually own this house – it looks far from perfect on the surface at the moment, with someone else’s carpets and curtains and wallpaper – but we know what we want to do with it and can’t wait to get started on changing that!
Our to-do list is growing as fast along the bottom as we can tick things off from the top, at the moment it feels a little like we’re constantly running to stand still, but we know this frenetic time will pass soon enough and we can slowly settle in to life in our new home, comfortably calm at last 🙂
Who Won the Week for me this week has to be my youngest granddaughter Lily, who at ten and a half months has not only recently mastered the art of standing unsupported on her own two feet, but also today has taken her first few tentative steps unaided.
And Lily reaching her new developmental milestone has certainly give us something wonderful to smile about in our family this week 🙂
What a picture of love looks like to a seven year old! Our eldest granddaughter’s portrait of her doting grandparents 🙂 She says we each have half of the same heart over our heads because we love each other with one love, and the heart in the middle above us has wings because love flies all around us all the time… ❤
I’m back again! Thankfully my 83-year-old dad is well on the road to recovery after his most recent stroke.
Well, ‘recovery’ in the sense of beginning to be on the mend again, slowly but surely, still in hospital for the time being but hopefully well enough to go home again in the next week or two. Physically his mobility is even more impaired than before, but he still manages to walk a little bit with a zimmer frame as long as someone is with him. And mentally his vascular dementia has inevitably deteriorated a bit more, but he’s still dad underneath it all and he still holds on tight to the promise of getting home soon…
I’m just so relieved he’s still with us, the first few days after his stroke were worryingly hit and miss but he’s finally finding his way back… love you dad ❤