I’ve been to this place before.
Not this farm exactly.
But one like it. A long time ago, but not far away. Ridiculously green tea and inky dams and hedges full of pinkforagirl, blueforaboy hydrangea.
I was smooth of skin, my hair long and glossy. Radiantly expectant – of life: mine and the one plumply growing inside me; my belly full of the 22 year old son who towers over me now.
I was impatient, hasty, demanding. The necessary selfishness of youth. I can see that now: as my older self reflects.
But I wonder what my 25 year old self would think of the older alter ego were she to meet her now?
Would she think her too tolerant of a far flung life? Too accepting? Meekly trailing in her husband’s wake? Or would she consider her resourceful? Brave? Inspiring?
I don’t know.
I do know, for sure though, that she’d observe this older woman and definitely think her roots needed doing and a slick of lippie wouldn’t go amiss …
Jam and Tea 
It makes me very happy to read this! Glad you’re back!
A new place, new leaf, new blog. Glad that new beginnings are feeling inspiring. Lucky that younger selves don’t get to comment… I’m sure mine would be lost for words!
my younger self would have hooted with derision. or snorted in disbelief. i think i like the older me more?
.Lovely to have you back blogging. Long may it last. I spotted the jam link, without even having to click over to it.
I think our younger selves would be very judgemental. I remember, when I’d just started my first proper job out of university, my “career”, there was talk about “women returners”, ie those wanting to return to work after having time out with children. Colleagues were discussing a training course, to help raise their confidence. I remember (*blush*) asking a colleague why on earth women would lack confidence, just because they’d been out of the workplace to have children. I don’t think I quite said “what’s WRONG with them?” but it was probably in my tone of voice.
My younger self would look at me and think “How hard can it be? You’re only working half-time. You just have to be organised. Do your shopping on the days you’re not at work. Plan meals that are easy to cook. Get your children to help more round the house. You’ve got all day Saturday and Sunday to catch up on things, for heaven’s sake.” But I look at her and think “How easy you had things! Only yourself to look after. Drifting round the shops after work, filling in time till you meet up with friends for a drink, or a meal. One bowl in the sink after breakfast. No dishwasher load to put away. No mortgage to pay, and if anyone talks about pensions, you think they’re the most boring specimen on earth.”
Perhaps we’d make our peace somewhere in the middle, but we do seem a long way apart.
i absolutely loved this iota. perfect, perfect description of how i’ve morphed from young, apparently invincible and unlined to rather well worn, and infinitely wiser (usually!) middle aged. the sageness of age and the confidence of youth. be nice if it met more in the middle? xx
Looking forward to reading your new adventures!
Well done for getting back into the blogging. I will think of you when I enjoy my endless cups of tea on this damp, soggy, windswept isle.
tea’s good. and i frequently drink it on my damp, soggy, windswept hill! 🙂