As of today, I'm officially in my late 50s. It's better than the alternative, I know, but I can't say I'm thrilled about it. Of course, it doesn't help that it's a dreary grey day, and my back is aching. (Long story short, I had a minor altercation with a bus this week from which I'm still recovering. On the upside, it's a four day weekend, my Facebook feed and inbox are flooded with birthday wishes, and I'm fortunate that I landed beside, and not in front of, the bus.)
It hasn't been a particularly productive day. I slept in this morning to recover from a busy work week, then headed to Mahone Bay with Husband for coffee and treats at The Barn. We enjoyed our stop there immensely. It's an awesome little place with a terrific vibe so we were in no hurry to head home when the time came - except that this little guy was waiting for us.
While Husband took Jackie for a long walk in the drizzle, I noodled over the menu for our official birthday supper. Husband's birthday is just a few days before mine so we agreed we'd celebrate them together tomorrow night. He requested duck so I've settled on duck breast with a port and cherry sauce, rissotto with artichokes and oka, and a tossed salad. The rissotto will be a bit of an experiment - my attempt to recreate a dish we had at Picnic a few weeks ago. Fingers crossed it works out.
So - back to the subject of aging. It ain't for sissies, that's the sure. Lately, it feels as if it's one thing after another. Husband's has had three trips to the dentist to deal with broken teeth and failed fillings, along with visits to the audiologist and optometrist to be fitted for hearing aids and glasses. I've just ordered my first set of progressive lenses, am still recovering from plastic surgery on my cheek, and am creeping out of bed like an old lady on account of my aching back. If we weren't otherwise so fit and healthy, it would be downright depressing.
Of course, the really hard thing about aging is coming to grips with the reality that there are some dreams it's just too late to pursue. At some point, it doesn't matter how much you want something or how hard you're prepared to work, it's simply out of reach. The answer, I suppose, is to dream new dreams, and/or get busy pursuing those that are still possible, but it's hard not to be discouraged by all the closed doors.
What say you, dear reader? Do you still dream new dreams? When is it too late to pursue them, and how do you know?