Spindle Whorls. Cyprus, Asia Minor, Egypt. Otago Museum, Dunedin.

I've lots to tell you, but I came home from Dunedin with a mild cold, and though I took it easy for the last two days, it's gotten progressively worse. This morning I woke up to a massive headache, with Beloved singing "Happy Birthday" repeatedly, somewhere in the depth of this fog. My eyes are blurry, my ears are ringing, and there doesn't seem to be enough oxygen going into my system. Good grief.

As of sometime later today, I will have been traipsing on this planet for 50 years. (Well, the first couple I might have been carried.) And I've been preparing for this for nearly a year. I'm grateful and relieved I discovered weaving before today, though I wish I'd discovered it earlier so I had time to get out of the murky, desperately passionate amateur stage by now. Or at least I had known a quicker way to progress and improve. On the other hand, I've got to tell you, I've been enjoying the ride, when it was smooth and when it was rough, and the fatalist in me thinks I'm exactly where I'm meant to be today.

Japanese culture places a lot of steps and requirements in aging. By the time you're 30, you should be responsible for your face, meaning you should show age-appropriate wisdom and knowledge. In your 40's, you're supposed to do something big, and in the old days for women, this meant making sure your kids grew up to be descent future citizens with all limbs in tact.

I don't remember Mom or my aunts saying anything about the 50's; they themselves weren't 50 yet, and I never contemplated I, too, could one day be 50. But 50 is also an age when one's supposed to be all grown up and know right from wrong and what duties need doing. Maybe even for a Japanese woman, it's that golden time when we're left alone, because all too soon, we'll be told to "obey our children".

Though it's just another day, a boring old Thursday, I had a few small fun idea, at this rate, it's looking like two aspirins, a tall glass of water, and reading in bed, which isn't bad because I love that very last one. And my parents are 77 and 80 and still living a fairly normal life; amen to that!!


  1. Well, I wish you a lovely, happy, get-well-soon birthday, and I'm looking forward to your next half-century!

  2. Happy Birthday, Meg! I recently turned 59 and I sure don't feel all grown up. My 50s have been a real sorting out time, lots of changes from one end of the decade til now. And I'm thinking my 60s will be the best. Hope you enjoy your 50s.

    P.S. I love your weaving, so you have my permission to stop thinking of yourself as an amateur!

  3. Lynne, it's been a strange day, sleeping fitfully for short spurts, reading about cognitive therapy in between. But I must admit, it's been a fun day. According to the book, I'm supposed to have some manic days coming up, too - can't wait. But seriously, it's been a good day.

    Connie, because of my drastic life/career change in my early 40's, I think I spent the decade with more reflections, assessment, planning, and in some ways, discarding of some dreams to concentrate on the weaving, compared to how my friends in their 40's live/d, so I confess I'm hoping my 50's is a little more settled and focused, but then there is the innate me that remains unpredictable and wild, so who knows? And thanks for the complement; it's my composure (or frequent losses thereof) that makes me consider myself a rank amateur. And the maddening warp tension.

    I am also happy that you discovered weaving before you were 50. I hope you keep up unseemly levels of enthusiasm for another decade or so.

  5. Happy Birthday, didn't you hear that 50 is the new 30?

    “Years wrinkle the skin, but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul.” Douglas MacArthur

  6. Taueret, unseemly? Hee hee, I guess I'm not toning it down any time soon, am I?

    Dee End, I never thought MacArthur said something pertinent for me, but how apropos!! (Hubby asks, if 50 is the new 30, do you count backwards after 40? He just wants to be 42 again, because he got a cute little red convertible back then.)


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