On Turning Fifty-Six

I shouldn't be posting yet another picture of myself as a youngun' but truth be told, the best photos I have of myself are all from my childhood. I became very un-photogenic as an adult. Either that or I'm a lot uglier than I realize and I'm taking perfectly good pictures.

I turned 56 yesterday. Next year I will no longer be able to say that I'm in my mid-50's -- I will then be in my late 50's. How did I get so old? On the inside I feel like I have just recently started to "get it". I wonder if most people are at this stage of awareness earlier in life. I assume that is the case, but I am probably wrong.

The other day I saw my reflection in a mirror... a magnification mirror... in bright natural daylight. I was shocked. I'm getting these weird wrinkles on my face in places that don't crease when I smile or frown. What's up with that? I can understand wrinkles that are created when you move your facial muscles a certain way over and over, but the existence of these new wrinkles is a complete mystery to me. And don't even get me started on the problems with my neck.

Elasticity. You don't really think about it until you find it missing.

And how about age spots? What a strange phenomenon. At first, you might tell yourself that you're just sporting a nice new sprinkling of freckles, but come on, who are we kidding. And can somebody, anybody, tell me why women need extra nose hairs when they get older??? Is it a cosmic joke or something? Or did the Almighty think it would be helpful if women could relate with men on a new level?

Despite the fact that the degeneration of my body is a runaway train, I really don't mind getting older. I've always looked younger than my age, which I absolutely hated growing up. When you're 16 you don't want people thinking you're 12. That just isn't flattering. But when you're, say, 45, you don't mind it if people think you're 35. When I'm out with my granddaughter people are usually surprised to find out that I'm not her mother. They say, "You don't look old enough to be a grandmother." Well, if I had had my daughter at 20 (which I did not) and then my daughter had had her baby when she was 20 (which she did not), then I'd only be 40 when I became a grandmother, so what, I always wonder, is a grandmother supposed to look like? I know without a doubt that I don't look as young as 30. But still, I'm flattered, and I always say thank you for the compliment as I try to slowly back away from the person so they won't begin studying my face looking for signs of age, because I guarantee you they will find it.

Happy Birth Month!

I love the idea of birthstones. Whenever I make a piece of jewelry using a birthstone, I always make sure to include the information about which month it is for in my description. I wonder who came up with the idea (a jeweler, probably) and how long it took to catch on with the general population. I also find it interesting that the list of stones has changed for some of the months over the years (a list can be found at the bottom of my Etsy profile page if you want to take a peek http://www.etsy.com/profile.php?user_id=6822809). For example, the traditional birthstone for November is citrine; the modern is topaz. Who got to change that? Probably a jeweler who ran out of citrine.

When I was a teenager, astrological signs were a big deal. My best friend and I shared both a birth month and sign. We were very philosophical about the whole thing, spending time comparing our personalities and making sure we fit the description of our shared sign. We were polar opposites in many ways, but we always dug deep to find all the ways in which we were alike. I mean, we had to be, right? We shared a sign!

We humans love to find similarities with each other, and I guess if I met you and found out that you were also born in March, right away there would be that little bit of connection. And I'd have no problem knowing your birthstone: aquamarine, just like mine. I'd also wish you a Happy Birth Month!