Knitworthy

Yesterday I enjoyed a celebratory birthday lunch with my friend Mary - her birthday was on Sunday and mine, of course, was last week. The first time we met we were amused to learn that not only are our birthdays only five days apart, we were born in the same year! It is always fun to spend time with Mary and yesterday's lunch was no exception: two hours of nonstop talking, hearty laughter and abundant sarcasm.

I was introduced to Mary on Facebook by our mutual friend, Betty. Mary and Betty knew each other as children in New Jersey, and I met Betty a gazillion years ago on a Windjammer Barefoot Cruise. When Betty heard that I was moving to Syracuse, she told me that I HAD to meet her friend Mary who lives in Syracuse. because she knew we would hit it off. We were Facebook friends (and Words With Friend foes) for quite some time before we finally decided it was time to meet in person.

Have you ever met someone for the first time that you swear you've known for years? That is exactly how it felt to me when I met Mary. It was such a pleasant surprise to meet someone with whom I had an instant friendship, and someone who gets my quirky personality and wicked sense of humor. Although we are very different in some ways, we are very alike in many other ways. We can be downright evil together and there is never a shortage of topics to discuss.

For Mary's birthday present, I knit a pretty little shawlette:

Here is a close up view of the feather and fan detail:

The yarn is Cascade Yarns Heritage Silk, which is 85% superwash merino wool and 15% mulberry silk. It has a lovely sheen to it and was quite fun to knit. I knew that Mary would appreciate the time, effort and workmanship I put into the shawlette because she is a very talented artist who puts her time, effort and workmanship into her amazing projects.She does illustration, graphic design, portraits, and fine art, and does it all very well.

And I knew that the vibrant red color would not scare her - Mary adores color and the more vibrant, the better. Her Color Can't Hurt You Etsy shop contains so-called "ordinary" items that she has made beautiful through color and design. Her birthday gift to me is one piece of Mary Art, either something she has already created or a custom request. Squeee - what to choose?

Mary has already given me a wonderful present - the gift of friendship, for which I am grateful. I am fortunate to have such a friend in my life, and she is very, very knitworthy. Thank you, Betty!

Shine on

Yesterday I celebrated my 50th birthday. Yes, fifty, as in eligible-for-AARP-membership-and-by-the-way-schedule-a-colonoscopy fifty. I have said it out loud now so there is no more denying that I am fifty years of age.

It was a difficult day. The official birthday celebration was on Sunday, complete with presents, steaks on the grill, and a fabulous cake baked by James, so yesterday was just an ordinary day of errands, laundry and cooking compounded by wet, dreary weather. I moped.

I have been coy about my age for years, even downright lying about it and so much so that I often forgot my real age. Why? I started hedging about my age when I realized many people reacted negatively to my age or anyone who was older than they. It made me feel uncomfortable and even embarrassed to have a younger person - even someone only a few years younger - make a rude or humorous [in their mind] comment about my age. I have even had people act rather superior that they were born after me. WTH?

Note: I also think that telling your age for no real reason is like telling someone your income or what you paid for your house, car or whatever; it's in bad taste and generally none of anyone's business.

As I worked through my conflicted feelings and got my head on straight, I opened a birthday card from my cousin Jill. It reads: "You've got a rhythm all your own that sets you above the rest. So get out there, birthday girl, and show the world how you shine." Thank you, Jill, for the gentle swift kick in the tookus that I needed.

Well, kittens, the shine is on and the gloves are coming off. I am fifty, damn it, and that is just fine with me. I don't look good for fifty, I look good. Things may not look exactly the same as when I was younger and may be in a slightly different place, and yes, I need to lose some pounds but overall, I am looking good and feeling fine. And if you want to make an age joke at my expense, you go right ahead...it will only make you look foolish.

Now that I am done with the pity party, I realized that because I do not deal well with uncertainty, much of my discomfort about turning fifty is that I do not know how to be fifty. I don't know if anyone ever really knows how to be the age that they are but I am fortunate to have a great group of role models: the ladies of my mystery readers book discussion group. With one exception, I am the youngest member of the group by at least 10-15 years and it never matters a bit. These women are among  the most interesting, funny and well read people I have ever met, "and the ladies of the club" (bonus points if you've read the book) show me every day how to be fabulous at any age.

So although I still believe deep down that it is bad manners and it certainly really isn't any of your business, I am fifty years of age. Get over it; I did.