Sunday, October 28, 2007

Gone To Seed



This is a photo from earlier in the fall. I'm pretty sure it's the dill by the back step: it looks like dill to me. But there are some other things around that look similar in the seedy stage.

I spent the whole day in the basement lair wrestling many yards of moss colored fabric into the shape of a long hooded robe/cape kind of garment for Owen's Halloween costume. It really ought not to have taken so long, but my serger is giving me all kinds of grief, which really slowed things down. Bah. And it was a glorious day here. I did get out of the house, to the supermarket, but somehow, that didn't really count. I planned to get out and take pictures, but somehow, never got to that. Tomorrow, the knitting updates and the costume, for certain. And maybe some more scenes from a late autumn garden.

I'm in some kind of strange funk the last couple of days. When I was in college and tried to run with a cool crowd, there were times when I had a sense that everyone else was at the party without me. It's like that. That vaguely dissatisfied sense that my whole lot in life is not quite what I planned on, and not really in a good way. Which is a lot of hogwash. Yes, not what I planned on, but really, that's good. What I planned on was dying young from the fallout of my extreme lifestyle, not living to be fat, middle-aged, and a mom. So, I'm suffering from what my sane self thinks of as high-class problems. This is kind of a late autumn thing for me. My birthday approaches and I get that melancholy reflection on time and mortality and all that angsty stuff. It seems a little worse this year, maybe because 46 is the entry point to the Late 40s. Really, still the Mid 40s. and really, still pretty young in the scheme of things. But knowing 50 is just around the corner kind of freaks me out.

I'm becoming vaguely anxious about my parents as they get older. They're in great health, but they're starting to talk about the end times of their lives. I still think of my mom as about the age that I am now: how can she be 21 years older than that?

When you're 25 and have all those infinite years stretching out ahead of you, it's hard to imagine how quickly they start to pass, how soon they start to seem finite.

So, enough of all that. Good thing Thanksgiving comes soon and I can be prodded toward gratitude.

11 comments:

Sandykins57 said...

Fifty isn't that bad... in fact, I'm rather enjoying it!

Marina said...

I know what you mean, but don't do that! I'm closer to 50 by a year. Susie, who reads my blog, got herself into the Guinness Book of records at 50, http://extremeknittingredhead.blogspot.com/

Sarah said...

Beautiful seed pods!

Why is it that a busted serger will make your life a nightmare when just using the sewing machine will make your life so simple? When the thing decides to act up I too am compelled to make it work.

I'm just a bit behind you, but when my husband hit 46 he had a rough time, aging dramaticaly all from his attitude. He thought he'd be somewhere very different too.

My parents are about the same age as yours and I am starting to see them aging a bit, my inlaws are well into their 80's and they really worry me.

Hope you have a happy birthday when it comes!

Bezzie said...

Oh, I love your dead-plant pics!

Whereas I'm still considered a young one, (although I can't help but look around at my peers who are just settling down and starting to do the family things and feel like an old lady...) I do get that fall-funk feeling myself too. Doesn't help that Chunky's a November birthday too, and honestly it's HIS growing older that makes me feel older!

knitaly said...

It often strucks me when I think about the things that happened two years ago and I feel as if it was two months ago!
There was a time in which I was afraid of becoming a mom, but then I realized that life runs quickly even if we don't make such steps, we can't freeze time!
We'd better run ahead of it, or at least keep the pace!
Take care!

Lynn said...

Uh-oh, I think I've infected you with my melancholia - I'm sorry! And it's a symptom of my melancholia that it even occurs to me that I could "infect" you with it.

I haven't discovered a cure yet, although immersing myself whole into gleeful pursuits helps a good bit, if I can avoid the concurrent guilt.

Perhaps you need a high-fiber diet. [hey, how could I resist saying that? ;~) ]

Kathy Kathy Kathy said...

melancholia: ditto

pushing 50: ditto

chocolate cake with chocolate frosting: priceless

can't make out the word verification: just me

YarnThrower said...

Elizabeth, If it makes you feel any better, I'm the other "only one" who isn't at the cool kids' party. (This often becomes clear at the bus stop in the mornings, surrounded by "working" moms, who sometimes ask me, "Well, what are you doing today?", and though, as you know, the days of stay at home moms don't have enough hours in them to finish all that waits for them, all I can muster is, "Ummm, today we're going to the grocery store and the library..." Doesn't exactly capture the essence of what we're really doing -- which is building castles, which take decades to put together, and which don't seem like much as we whittle away each day, but which, over a kids' lifetime, help to build something that is so much different than it would have been without us. Anyway, sorry, didn't mean to get so philosophical on you... Anyway, I just want you to know that I admire your decision to stay home with your kids, and I know that things are different for them and your husband because of it, and I admire your success in your knitting endeavors, and your kindness toward others! You are a total success!

Also, I hope that things improve for you. The days are getting shorter, etc., and I imagine all of that plays a role in it, too. And, happy birthday! If nothing else, aging beats the alternative...

Cindy G said...

Hmmm, days shortening, I know that fall feeling... but it's a mistake to focus on a number. As long as you're trying new things, you're young enough.

Emily said...

Hmmm. Mine has generally taken the form of panic rather than melancholy.
Every decision one makes to do one thing is a thousand decisions made NOT to do other things. Some of which you might not even know you're deciding not to do.
Fuckin adulthood.
I was supposed to be a graphic designer or own a bike shop or something! Definitely not this!!
The one thing I know will stave off these thoughts is a walk in the woods.

Laura said...

Ah aging. Why can't anyone stop it? Why do we keep counting the years?

I too go through fits of melancholy like yours and I don't have any hints on how to stop wallowing in it. Only the busy-ness of life can distract my thoughts from it. Perhaps "OMG-I'm-getting-old" is just something that everyone goes through from time to time. I think I had some of those feelings even in my 20s!