I am not as young as I once was. It doesn’t trouble me, in fact, I embrace this season of my life full on. I wouldn’t trade these years for anything, but occasionally unexpected things look me in the face and say “you’re not a young woman any more.”
Yesterday, I canned one last batch of beets and, with that, I’m declaring canning season over. I wrote before about how I’m paring down my canning activities this year. I have mixed feelings about the decision, but I’m sticking with it.
Thinking about school lunches, I also baked oatmeal cookies and bran muffins (Gerry did a happy dance when I announced that I was going to bake), and chopped raw veggies to have on hand for the week. I realized early on that baking while babysitting a pressure canner wasn’t the wisest choice, but carried on nonetheless.
There’s more I intended to do, but by the time I pulled the last tray of muffins out of the oven I was done, and seriously thinking about a nap. But we had other things to tend to. I begged off cooking dinner by declaring family pizza and movie night, and by the time I climbed into bed I was too tired to read more than a page.
This morning I slept late. Waking around 7 doesn’t allow for the anywhere near the amount of quiet morning time I like, so that was disappointing. But it did reinforce for me that my weariness yesterday was real and that I need to give myself permission to do one thing not ten things at the same time.
Isn’t it lovely that life continually offers opportunities for us to learn and grow?