It's been said by many: if you want to stay sharp and avoid the sclerotic thinking so often associated with older age, engage the younger world. Listen to their take on things. Laugh at their humor, be open to their ideas.
My day was delightfully filled with younger people's stories and perspectives. Not bad, for a middle of the week February day that so many would associate with dreariness and stagnation.
First, though, the usual.
(all hens are now moving around despite the occasional snowy ice patch)
This morning, I see that we have a visit by Pancake. We still do not know if she is feral, but she is here a lot, at the same time that she is terribly afraid of humans. We try to feed her, but most often she runs at the sight of us.
Breakfast, but very very "lite," because we have an early lunch before us. Old people can only eat so much!
I have a haircut then. It has been half a year and I need a trim. The woman who cuts my hair is my daughters' age and she is full of bounce and stories today. She's a mother of a young one, I'm a grandmother of several young ones and some of them happen to go to the same school as her child. Common ground, despite the age difference: there is much to share and compare. And I learn a lot on yet another person's honest and oftentimes amusing take on the whole job of raising a little one.
Okay, hair is cut...
I drive to pick up Ed and we head out for a lunch at the Weary Traveler. We are a foursome -- with two people from Tormach in addition to the two of us. All those machine designers and software people! Why was I included? Well, because one of them, a newbie, is (freshly) from Poland.
I sometimes get frustrated with Poles from my generation, but young people so often leave me reeling with hope -- with their determination, their vision for their lives, their almost poetic connection to nature, family, their respect for age -- all of it. So lunch is a total delight.
And then I quickly drop Ed at home and go off to pick up Snowdrop. On the ride home, we review our days and then settled comfortably into a discussion of the sunshine, the lovely warm air outside, the coming of spring. And then she tells me -- but of course, the Groundhog saw his shadow so...
I say the first thing that comes to my head -- you know that that's just a fun saying we tell ourselves? The groundhog's shadow doesn't really predict the coming of spring, right?
She looks at me with that reproachful look that kids are capable of throwing your way: Gaga, I know about the tooth fairy, about the Easter Bunny, but this? You ruined the Groundhog for me!
Really? Oh oh... I'm so sorry! Who knew that the Groundhog story mattered!
Yep, ruined it!
Thinking back, I'm wondering if maybe I did her a favor: if she thought the groundhog was going into hiding for the next six weeks, she should be relieved to know that actually spring may come before that, our February 2nd sunshine to the contrary, notwithstanding. Still feeling apologetic, I promised her compensation in the form of a whole half of my coveted fresh croissant, which I'd picked up earlier on our drive home from lunch.
Perhaps you'll have noticed the bouquet? Flowers arrived today for Valentine's Day! Well, that's not totally true -- they are in anticipation of Valentine's Day because I picked this time to have them here. They are a free gift from the flower company that had sent me a bouquet I had ordered for my holiday table way back in December, when the Amaryllis refused to grow. I dont know if you remember our December, but it was in fact one long Arctic blast. It killed half the flowers in the bunch that was delivered, and the company promised me a freebie at the date of my choice. And so once again, I have a free and beautiful spray of roses on the kitchen table!
Except for a brief check in with Ed...
... Snowdrop and I spend the afternoon reading almost to the end of the book that has held us both captive to its story line for several days (The Penderwicks). I remember being equally enthralled reading some books to my daughters at this age. Excellent stuff that made me feel so grateful that my daughters indulged my love of reading out loud to them. It's hugely wonderful to have a chance to do this all over again with the grandkids.
To be old, yet still a friend to those half, or a third or a tenth of your age is truly fantastic.
I am so very appreciative!
with love...
