Happy Birthday, Deb

Happy Birthday, Deb

Today is my daughter's 51st birthday. It seems strange to me that we are both enduring hot flashes and night sweats now. Fifty years ago I was enduring hormonal fluctuations and demands while she was still needing her diapers changed. It seems that the older we get, the closer our ages become. My group of friends includes people of all ages and many are younger than my children.

But I am not 51 and my body reminds me of that fact quite often now.

Last weekend I went out for lunch and to an art show with friends who are younger, and decided by 3 p.m. that I needed to go home to the serenity of the lake and just veg out with my dog. They continued on to other pursuits.

This weekend I planned to go to many different art shows, see a play at the Elmdale Tavern, and generally keep happily busy for three days and evenings.

But, reality intervened.

On Friday morning, I walked Kenya and then went to my pottery class where I laboured for three hours on a bread baker. (Slab plus coil for anyone interested.) By the time I finished the building I was exhausted, fed up with it and my stomach was growling. And then Carrie noted that the base was too thin for the sides so it had to be re-done and attached.

Before I could go home though, I had to photocopy a set of directions for some fingerless mitts and send them off to an email-less friend in Barrie. By the time I got home the growling had become thunderous and then sullen.

I boiled two eggs and wolfed them down with toasted whole wheat challah bread, and then felt awful: bloated, nauseous and sweating profusely. I thought maybe a hot bath and a nap would help... it didn't ... maybe a 2 mile walk with Kenya ... uh uh. By the time I got home again I was feeling no better, just more exhausted. And I had to go to an art show at 6:30 and then entertain friends for dinner.

I took meat out of the freezer and planned the menu. And then I realized I did not have to do this. I could phone and cancel. As soon as I did, the world came back into focus. I could breathe again. Life was once again manageable.

I can no longer overload my plate, it seems ... either with food or commitments. I need to maintain a quiet pace of life with regular meals and a balance between being alone with my own thoughts and opening myself to new experiences.

I will try to get to Cathy and Dave's show this afternoon ... it is in Chelsea. And maybe I will check out the Nearly New Shop in Chelsea as well while I do my grocery shopping.

And, then, I think I will spend the rest of the weekend baking 3 different kinds of bread with the giant zucchini I grated yesterday, making a curried pumpkin and mushroom soup and more challah bread, and listening to Stuart MacLean when Tyler's story will be read. And I will invite my friends to share food with me here and tell me all about what they saw at the Bead show, the 260 Fingers show and the art exhibit at the old Creighton Street School.

I will also continue reading Merle's Door, a book that makes me very glad I too have a free thinking dog.

I hope you have a wonderful day and weekend, Deb, and that this birthday is special.