Christmas tree is coming today and then decorating will have to ensue, despite the lack of our decs from California. this is what popcorn and cranberries are for, except when you have a dog. hm. we may resort to decorating with now useless RAM modules and Luke's old dog tags. shiny!
we also celebrated our colleague's recent book release this weekend, which is very exciting and will be coming out in paperback soon for those interested and yet not having the spare £55.
we've been watching thirtysomething. and this has caused me to reflect on adulthood, as when I first watched the show I was not thirtysomething. now I am firmly so, and it reads very differently. hosting thanksgiving is adult-like. but one still feels somehow as if one is playing house. does this go away? I used to think it would, but now I am not so sure. I think this: one never actually becomes the adult person you think your parents are when you are 8. For that adult person existed only in your 8-year-old mind. Really they were (early) thirtysomethings and making it up, just as you are now in your thirtysomething life. and thus adulthood. hm.
2 comments:
Except that when my parents were thirty-something, they had a dining-room table upon which to have Thanksgiving dinner. And a dining room in which to put said table. And kids to seat at it, by the time they were late-30-something. All of these things I lack. So they may have been making it up, but they were playing house with better set design and casting.
So is my improperly designed life a deliberate rejection of "adulthood?" A differently managed adulthood? That is, I think it's more than just having become the person my parents were at my age and not realizing it, because I'm looking with adult eyes. There really are some definitive differences -- although I'm not quite sure what they signify.
A quite apropos discussion, given that my mother just declared her desire to trade in her wedding china for something microwavable and plastic from Ace Hardware. I now have the choice of either seeing part of my childhood (the dishes the grown-ups got to use at parties) go to Goodwill, or of finding space in my cupboards -- and my life -- for 12 white bone china teacups and saucers, as well as other articles.
Does anyone even use teacups anymore?
Does anyone even use teacups anymore?
Well, we live in Great Britain, so the answer from these quarters would be yes.
Post a Comment