Thursday, September 06, 2018

My life

Someone commenting on my last post, in which I bemoaned my EXTREMELY wrinkled face, told me to    "Get on with living your interesting, full and satisfying life and stop worrying about pointless things."

I did respond in the comments section - twice - but I can't get that phrase 'interesting, full and satisfying life' phrase out of my head. It keeps cropping up in all kinds of situations. Take this morning, when I woke up feeling like all writers do from time to time - that I was a big fat impostor, that I was kidding myself that I could ever write page-turning plot, and I should give up, and concentrate on the rest of my 'interesting, full and satisfying life.'

Is my life interesting, full and satisfying? Is this what it looks like from the outside? 

From the inside, I know I am very fortunate. I have good health, a lovely home, a great family (Dave is included in this word though he would argue that he doesn't count as family. I know! Take it up with him.) I have good friends, and I have enough money so I don't have to worry, though the price of domestic heating oil is currently causing some alarm at Hepworth Towers. 

No-one outside can tell if my life is satisfying, but as for interesting and full...I had always thought that mine was a very quiet life. I do the same bike rides over and over, we rarely go out in the evening, and these days, my domestic and admin duties seem to take up far more time than they ever did, and they are neither interesting nor satisfying. I have a couple of trips down to London a year, one up to Wensleydale, and two to see the family in Boulder. That's about it. 

Yesterday I woke up thinking - Oooh, Dave is out all morning, so I can write. Then I went downstairs to get my first mug of tea and walked in the kitchen and there were the plums that we picked the day before.



These are from our one tree. And it's not all of the crop. They needed processing - stewing so Dave can eat them with his yoghurt, jamming to give away, making into crumbles for freezing, and dispersing amongst friends and neighbours. 

Dave has worked as hard as I have on them and we've more or less cracked it now. But the freezer is full and we have four large containers of stewed plums in the fridge for Dave to get through before they go off. 

So...I have fun. I am happy. I like my life. But I still don't like my wrinkles. Does anyone? Honestly?


6 comments:

Anonymous said...

Sue, having no, or fewer, wrinkles won’t improve your life. At least not in my opinion. Yes, your life is interesting otherwise why do I keep returning to read this blog? Maybe it’s me but I think everyone has an interesting life. People are interesting. Do you want me to remind you of your slack-line walking, saxophone playing, lemon curd making habits? Or the good work you do with your fellow Quakers? Or the love and support you share with your family and Dave (oooh, how I’d love to talk to him for an hour). You’ve a useful brain, care about humanity and ‘do no harm’. You’ve survived nearly 70 years, lived through interesting times and are - I believe - a very interesting and caring person. And you look great! So what if you have a few wrinkles and need to wear glasses, they take nothing from you as a person.

Sue Hepworth said...

Wow.
Thank you.

marmee said...

Hello there from one vain old woman to another!! I tell you I have been busy this side trying to survive without a front tooth while my implant is accepted by my jaw. Yes yes, I was given a little dental plate to wear but it is yucky and yet I CANNOT leave the house without it. My husband helped by making me a little poster with the word TOOF on it sticky taped to the front door so I can remember not to take to the streets gap toothed because if I did I may well die of shame! I am VERY mature in some ways , and I do not want to be young on the inside again , but oh gosh I don't know, can't say I don't notice my wrinkles and my arthritic knuckles and am a bit shy about both . Sooo : colour me frivolous and shallow, I don't care!!

Sue Hepworth said...

I have long thought of you as a kindred spirit, Marmee. This is the clincher. ❤️

Anonymous said...

I keep coming back to admire those plums, they are lovely. I’d love a bowl of those fresh off the tree, lucky you.

And to say I hope I didn’t offend you. I really hope I didn’t.

Sue Hepworth said...

The plums are truly delicious, Anonymous.
Don't worry - you didn't offend me.