Notice I titled this “Older Lady” and not old lady? 61 years but still feeling like a kid in my brain. Not so much in my knees or shoulders. But my memories of being younger and stronger are so vivid that I sometimes cannot understand why I am not climbing hills as quickly or why it hurts when I jump off a ladder or step-stool. I must say that I am liking my wrinkles and crinkles though! I wasn’t sure if I would but I have always loved to photograph the faces of women over 40. It’s when our faces become storytellers. 
I haven’t written on this page since June! That’s just crazy and probably lazy but no words none-the-less. Seems like a birthday is as good a day as any to throw some thoughts together. I am without any doubt wiser than I was 40 years ago. Probably even 10 years ago. It seems to be one of the few benefits of aging. You get contented to lay down the battle axe and pick up a pen or paint brush. Which sometimes can feel almost as heavy but certainly less destructive. And that is pretty much where I have been for the past 6 months. In a sweet creative spot.
All of these designs and more are on my Society6 storefront:
This year brought Jerry and I our first full year in the Blue Cape Cod. We saw a winter, a spring, a summer, and then came full circle to autumn, which marked that first year anniversary in the house, now a home. It’s been snowing this past week. Fluffy flakes of coldness that ice everything around us. The whole town looks like a wedding cake.
This past February I started working at our local library, which I adore beyond words. I found my way into new friendships, new volunteer roles, new newness, which I also adore. There is something so grandly simple about a town with only one stoplight.
Old friends came to visit this year, family too. There has been table load after table load of food that came out of the kitchen. Pies baked (of course, what is life without pie), wine opened, stories shared, and my walls still ring with laughter from all who have set around the table or under the shade of the sycamore in the backyard.
It’s been an emotional year as well. My mother died and a younger brother as well. I wasn’t close to my mother and didn’t feel the same mourning that others might feel at the loss of a parent. But I did mourn what I wished we could have had, who we might have been. And that is a strange grief indeed.
I have everything . . . I have Jerry and I have kids and now grand-kids. I have friends, wonderful, deep, life-long friends and we have worn each other like a perfectly frayed pair of jeans. Every inch of those friendships are soft and slightly tattered but so comfortable and familiar and easy to slip into.
I have new friendships that are blossoming. I am growing new tendrils that are attaching to the earth and trees around me here in Dayton. And they are anchoring me. I like how that makes me feel; safe and welcome.
I have this big Blue Cape Cod that is slowly awakening to having us live in its heart. It is absorbing our energy and filling up with our memories. It is becoming home.
So, those are just a few thoughts from an older lady . . . today starts another cycle around the sun, another whoop-em-up ride through an ever expanding universe. I like that I am here with you all at the same time.
A Blue Cape Cod 