acting my age

I love being 48. Not ashamed to own my age. Prepared to flaunt it. Better than the alternative. So what inspires this mutual love affair with my age? Purple hair.

Do you really want an explanation, or, as one of my favorite Harry Potter lines goes, "After all this time, (have you) just learned to go with it?" So, last night was the first dress rehearsal of The Wiz, our community theater production. Last night, I came home with purple hair and purple glittery fingernails. And today, before my haircut appointment, I had to go shopping and commit several other public offenses.

Five years ago, I would never have ventured out of my house with purple hair. I would have been mortified at the thought. What would people think? Say? What children might I frighten? Today, I was completely amused. Now, I imagine what people might say, and it's fun to let my imagination go. It's not got far to go. I know what I might have said about a 48-year-old woman with purple hair wearing decidedly not mom-jeans not long ago.

Now, it is so darn much fun not to care. And that's why I love being 48.

What do you love about your age?

oh so pleasant

OK, so it doesn't look like anyone else's house. But then, the inhabitants aren't quite like anyone else.

Really, my husband has made amazing progress. Used to be, when we had to spray paint a garage sale find, or a 4H project, or a costume piece in the driveway, he'd get all distressed because we didn't cover the asphalt. I always said it added character to the house to have all those paint outlines. Plus, people got to guess what we'd painted by the shape of the outline. And since the driveway has more cracks in it than all of the Golden Girls put together, it's not exactly a cosmetic blemish.

So, surprised we were when middle child got the brainstorm to paint the outside of the house and he agreed to let her do it. Now, you understand, I do not mean paint as in paint the nice lemon yellow with blue trim I have in mind one day when we can afford it. I mean as in, abstract art all over the side of the house. Yes, it's tempera, so it will eventually was off, but still. Quite a serious character departure for my husband.

You probably won't be surprised that it was not so for me. Still, I was surprised to discover how much I really love the finished product. (Though I doubt it will ever be 'finished.') Life is just too short to worry about what the neighbors will think about the front of the house. I'd rather think about what we're learning about creativity and flexibility and thinking outside the box when faced with a situation that we'd like to change (in this case, the awful color of the house).

To quote my favorite actor of all time:

"Years ago my mother used to say to me, she'd say, "In this world, Elwood, you must be oh so smart or oh so pleasant." Well, for years I was smart. I recommend pleasant. You may quote me."

My paraphrase would be:

"In this world, you can be oh so controlling or oh so flexible. Well, for years I was controlling. I recommend flexible. You may quote me."

Not only that, but I have a really cool house now!