Being down with flu gave me a lot of time to post here (my brain being useless for anything more taxing), but it hasn't been very good for my work. So I'm going on a short hiatus after today's post in order to catch up again, and while our French visitors are in town.
It's my birthday, by the way, and as of 2:05 this morning (the time of my birth in the middle of a snow storm on the Fort Dix army base in New Jersey) I'm 52 years old. I decided to say that because there's such pressure in our culture for women...well, for everybody...to stay perpetually young. And that's never going to change if we (women especially) don't embrace, enjoy, and take pride in each and every age that we pass through.* I'm not young, I'm half a century old, and grateful to have made it this far. And I have this to say to the young women coming on behind me: 52 feels pretty damn good!
One final thing before I go: Theodora Goss (author of In the Forest of Forgetting) has a nice post up on her blog today called "My Writing Life." Her evocation of a writing day that involves moving between several different commitments and projects, rather than working on a single manuscript at a time, definitely rings true for me.
Now I'm off. Tilly and I (and the bunny girl cast of thousands) will be back some time next week, so cheers 'til then.
*On the subject of aging with spirit, wit, and grace, I'm reminded of the "then and now" page that was put together for the Endicott Studio's 20th anniversary a few years ago.