Forward March

Eve successfully raised her babies in the Bridal Veil hanging plant by the back slider and last week two astonishingly chubby babies fluttered away. For a few days one of them lingered, totally unconcerned by our daily activity of watering plants and checking the pool. Very cool. And then this week, as the baby built up the courage to explore new worlds, we discovered another egg. What is this, the Holiday Inn?!

We've been in a huddle lately about the future and how to best shape it through planning. The terrible economic conditions have been a super conductor to the discussion, but it was always there, a nagging little itch to plan, plan, plan. I've let my focus be on life in full sail and the beauty of the present scenery.

I know that planning anything yields better results but somehow this topic was mired in my diminishing role in an otherwise productive life. I never have come around to believing I'm getting old.

I've said it a million times: women are adaptable creatures, a big jumble of heart, flexibility and spirit that leaps through the stages of life -- little girls, women, workers, wives, mothers, homemakers, painters, landscapers, photo journalists, educators, medics and psychologists. We are first, last, and invisible as historians of our clan.

So if this isn't about adaptability, it has to be about value and place, and the perception of discarded old people in our country. Maybe it's time to see those wrinkles in the mirror and notice the need for more sleep and a quiet day at home after a long week.

Today looks like a good day to grow up, into life as it stands, not tinted by the sweet memories of noisy children and messy playrooms. I reluctantly admit the time to plan and scheme and dream and work has arrived.

And so I will -- Forward March! -- into wherever, walking boldly and surefooted, through transitions in my thinking, my body, my identity, my perceptions, keeping tight to the faith that the path will be lit.