Silver Sparkles Playbook

I read a quote this week that I've been turning over in my mind. In his book 'Essentialism'', Greg McKeown writes, "The word priority was singular for 500 years- what does priorities mean- many, many first things?" (Kind of an awkward sentence, but go with it.)  Apparently, before 1940, there were no "priorities". Just "priority."  It was a singular noun.  One thing that was first or most important.  Fascinating, right? I wondered if it is possible to have multiple priorities, or if that is just wishful thinking.  A way of not forcing myself to decide what is most crucial in any given situation, or with my life as a whole.  If many things are a priority, then what really is? At different points in my life, my priorities have included earning money to buy cute shoes, flirting awkwardly with boys who weren't interested in me,  (No, not school.  I don't think that was ever really a priority for me), and later, raising healthy, confid...

I'm a few days into this whole 50 situation and, unsurprisingly, I don't feel any different.  Obviously, nothing changes the day you hit the half-century mark. And yet... And yet, changes have been happening.  Probably for some time now.  Birthdays are milestones.  They are a good time, like New Year, to take stock of where you are and where you want to go.  50 seems like an especially auspicious time. First of all, CHANGE IS SCARY!  At least, for me is it.  I like routine.  Predictability.  I don't like surprises, even on my birthday.  The past several months and years have brought undeniable changes to me and my life.  Physical changes, certainly.  Besides the silver hair, I have this troubling soft thing going on under my chin.  Is it the beginning of jowls?  That would be a scary change.  My eyes crinkle more when I smile, but I don't see that as a problem as long as I have plenty of things and people to ...

So, I'm turning 50.  Tomorrow.  I went looking for some online inspiration, because let's be real, turning 50 is kind of a big deal.  A milestone.  A half-a-freaking century.  And all I could find were lame jokes about losing your memory, saggy tits and being Over the Hill.  I made the mistake of complaining to my daughter that there was no one writing about turning 50, and she said maybe it should be me.  Well, duh.  So, here it is.  My thoughts on turning 50. (Be warned, in the future, you may also get my thoughts on knitting, family life in an emptying nest, minimalism and how to live with a husband who treats your home like a comedy club.) First of all, I'm excited, not depressed by the prospect.  I'm at the halfway point.  My grandmother and her mother both lived well into their nineties.  Between that and medical advances and some luck, I could well see my 100th birthday.  And the best part is that this half, I don...