This is for Saz and it concerns the Third Age: From Good Old Auntie Beeb, "The name comes from the supposed division of people's lives into four stages. The first is young people's years in full-time education; the second when financial independence is tempered by family and other commitments.
Get to the third and you are still independent but without such ties - for most of us, this means retirement. The fourth is a state of relative dependency, such as being in a care home". Sweet joy!
And thusly, when we are approaching our Third Age, when we are supposedly coming up to and over the hill of 50, as GJ and I now are... Our baby bird, Grizz, may be about to flee the nest for another nest up in an Ivory Tower in one of the nearby cities. We are hopeful of paying off our mortgage in the next eight years. We are enjoying some of our liberty, now freed from some of the sweet burden (never all!) of child-rearing and child-minding... We're going out more. We've cut some of the ties that bind us to having to be in the same place at some time, in order to accommodate Grizzles...
And he's more independent. He has his own car. We give him some of our income, and will continue to do so while he is at College, (and probably beyond!) He has a lovely girlfriend who he enjoys spending time with. He has a wide and wild circle of friends and fiends. He can use the oven. Operate a tin-opener. Cook simple and delicious meals. Use the washing machine. Cope with the iron. Keep himself clean. I never see him wash up a dish, however!
So, in spite of the fact that I'm a little worried about my job, given that the Coalition government wishes in all likelihood to do away with us, I'm feeling that some of this time ahead of us is for us. Us. Me. Him.
Hence the motorbike, I think. Hence my Edwardian dressing table, safely ensconced in the garage until I can clear some space in my boudoir to accommodate it, and I can find a suitably antique boudoir chair to park my sizeable derriere on...
Hence the vintage ruby chip Edwardian ring I'm wearing in place of my mother's early 50's engagement ring, the pink (what else?!) ruby is flanked by two diamond chips, embellished by silver-grey platinum... Not ostentatious, but it's delicate and feminine. Qualities I envy in others, as in me they FAIL to manifest themselves!
I live in an Edwardian house, I'm just trying to find things in keeping with that tradition and style, without being a slave to the era...
I shan't be wearing a corset!
I've said it before to others in the past, "I'm spending my way through grief!"
It might not work for anyone else, but hey it's one of my coping mechanisms, to be sure.