So we all know that I’ve been through the mill over the last few years.. well, maybe you don’t know, but I have.
And as I have often said, life rolls on. You can’t look backwards. Well you can, but the view is not very attractive or exciting, not from my point of view anyway. I choose to look forwards as much as I can. Although I will say, looking back, which I just said I wouldn’t do, I’ve been in a sort of Golden Era.
I’ve done lots of things for the first time in my life. and being almost 54, I say almost, I’m not there yet, give me 3 months, find that it’s sort of amazing that I waited or was forced into waiting for so long. So my cherry has been popped many times over recently.
I started drinking hard liquor just recently, about 2-3 years ago. I had been a soft drink/juice kind of girl. Not necessarily through choice. I did used to drink when I was a young, hot and sexy single gal. OK. You got me. When I was young and single. I would quaff a few gin tropicals when I was out with my gal pals on a Saturday night, which doesn’t sound so bad. Except for the fact that I was only 16 and getting into clubs, where I was served as much alcohol as I could pour down my throat, and I thoroughly enjoyed myself.
Anyway, during the first 25 or 26 years of our marriage I had always been the responsible sober one. Hubs and I would go out, but of course having three young boys, we usually only went to other people’s homes who had kids too. We would have a barbeque, play cards or watch a movie, and the boys (our hubbies, not our children) would get pretty smashed on cheap booze and I would then drive us home, carry the kids inside, put them to bed, carry hubby inside, drop him just inside the door and go to bed!
It worked for us and I didn’t mind too much. The alternative was being maimed or possibly killed in a horrendous car accident caused by my drunken husband being behind the wheel. I preferred the safe method. So I remained dry.
After our 25th wedding anniversary I told him that seeing as I had been the designated driver for the first half of our marriage (I’m clearly aiming for that 50th Anniversary Congratulatory Email from our Prime Minister and The Queen, or King, whoever is in power when that rolls around, if we haven’t become a republic, in which case I’ll be pissed) I thought it would be a good and fair idea if he became the designated driver for the next 25 years.
So I set about finding what I liked to drink. I’ve settled on a few. I’ve got a shocking sweet tooth, so my drink of choice hovers between Tia Maria and coke, or American Honey on ice. There’s a lot in between so I suppose you’d say I’m now a lush. And I’m OK with that. Mostly because I know I’m going to arrive home safely thanks to my designated, grumpy but sober, driver.
I’ve also experience my very first massage and facial during the last two years. Oh My God! Why did I not do this before? Well I know why, because I was a stay at home mum who really didn’t have time to scratch myself, nor the money to have someone else do the scratching for me. So that’s become a new “me time” activity. I’ve done it twice. Not as much as I’d like, but my timeline got interrupted there for a bit.
I had my first hysterectomy. Pretty sure it will be my last. So cheers for that!
I recently started posting my fictional scribblings for the first time. I can’t really call myself a writer, I don’t feel that I have the right to do that. If someone else says it, well, perhaps I’ll believe them, but I think its a bit naff to call yourself a writer when you only scribble for fun. It has surprised me that anyone is even reading my fanfiction, and more so, that they comment and appear to like it! Who knew!
I baked a cake from scratch for the very first time in my life. Yes. A cake. I can’t help it if my mother never taught me how to cook. Mostly because her idea of cooking was to boil the living crap out of the three vegetables that my father would eat.
Last year we had our first holiday alone together in 26 years! And of course next year we have our first overseas holiday. I refer to last year’s trip as the tester. He’s going to be trapped with me for 8 weeks, with no out. His face? (you will note there is a pattern)
Well there’s an out, but that would require sending a body home in a plain wooden box to be collected by the boys because I would be continuing my holiday. Hey! I didn’t pay all that money for nothing!
I also started this blog. Not that this is a first, exactly. I tried one before but for some reason I failed at it. It’s still out there somewhere floating around in the ether.
Anyway, I’m hoping to add many many more things to my list of firsts. Some call it a bucket list, but buckets are so heavy and awkward to carry …. I prefer a square of paper folded up and shoved in my pocket. Much easier.