Kiwifruit

Ooh, the joys of a weekend of having absolutely no plans whatsoever, especially after a month of social, 40th birthday type celebrations and a 14th wedding anniversary which were all lovely but, ya know, sometimes a gal needs her bed.

This weekend went a little bit like this, which, come to think of it, seems fairly busy:

I….

• spent six hours gardening, including weed-eating galore and mucking out the garden by the back-door (which had a suspicious, man-sized flat patch at one end due, apparently, to a certain spaced-out hippy missing the french door to the right of it during my birthday party).
• attended a barbecue over at the Beige Shed as Bruvinlaw’s parents were up for the day/night to see Niece T’s ballet recital – salad out of Lil’Sis’ garden, new potatoes, lamb loin chops, sausages in bread, rump steak, rounded off by brandy snaps, profiteroles with lemon curd and whipped cream! Delish.
• slept in till 9.30 this morning due to the six hours in the garden the day before and a few glasses of Scrumpy last night, missing most of the All-Blacks/France game but managing to rouse myself for the Other Harf’s fry-up.
• played for hours on my PC with our all new broadband internet connection. Yes, Vodafone admitted they never should have sold us the previous modem, which would never have delivered broadband, and we got a nice big chunky refund from them and a voucher to upgrade to the new modem stick. YouTube and iTunes did very well out of me today!
• spent at least an hour in the garden taking photos of all the new flowers turning out for the spring weather, then photos of Miss 9.2 for her “Do a Good Deed” school project (making toys for the kittens at the Whangarei SPCA, bless).
• And now? Anticipating home-made pizza for dinner, Mucking In on telly at 7pm and an early night.

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This morning I arrived at work (after having a day’s leave yesterday) to find my walls festooned in pale blue
and gold balloons (forty in total; there was a lot of readily-available hot air involved blowing them up) with a waterfall of golden streamers
cascading from the ceiling above it and a banner sellotaped round the edge of my
desk bearing the legend: “Happy 40th Birthday!”

Later, my lovely colleagues treated me to a slap-up morning tea consisting of homemade savoury scones, mini-quiches, chocolate-dipped strawberries, caramel slice, butterscotch crumble slice and best of all, Sue’s Delicious, Delightful, Delectable and very rich Chocolate Cake with Chocolate Gananche.

I am hearby on Weight-Watchers with at *least* 20 kilos to lose.

My good friend Sandra (who turns 42 on the 24th of December) rang last Thursday night from England, and she couldn’t quite believe I was about to turn 40.

I told her I wasn’t quite sure how I felt about it yet, but it was definitely something I was facing with a certain degree of trepidation.

“I know! You just think to yourself, this is my life. It’s half way over! This is it; I’ve already had half the life I’m going to get. I can understand why people have mid-life crises and go out and buy a flash little sportscar or something. You feel it just might be your last chance.”

So yesterday morning, while seated eating breakfast overlooking a misty Karioitahi Bay, while the Other Harf sat across from me industriously eating his scrambled eggs and toast and hashbrowns and fried mushrooms and grilled tomato (it was a buffet breakfast, so the OH took full advantage), I had this overwhelming wave of melancholy settle over me.

Was this it? Were all the good times over? Had I had all the very best fun and amazing experiences that I was ever going to have in my teens and twenties and thirties?

Was my quota up?

It was a feeling that I couldn’t quite shake all day, but then, that evening, as I sat in the same restaurant eating a lovely birthday dinner, the Other Harf asked me what was the best experience of my past 40 years.

That was easy.

It was meeting him, which just made all the happiness I have now possible. And I have a lot.

And all things going well, I’ll get another 40 years.

And the melancholy floated away.

So here I am, sitting at the kitchen table in a chalet on a clifftop over looking a windswept and very beautiful Karioitahi Bay, approximately an hour’s drive south-west of Auckland.

I don’t bleat on about work, ‘cos lord only knows that can come back and bit you in the butt big time, but today I feel compelled to compile this wee list.

1. What’s with all that coughing and not covering your mouth? Did your mother never teach you that it spreads germs? I hate to see the state of your keyboard under a microscope.
2. Capital letters in an email is shouting. HA!
3. Hey you! Wipe the bench! Acres of spilt sugar granules don’t miraculously disappear.
4. When the sign on the microwave asks you to Please Cover Your Food, that’s what the sign actually means. Duh.
5. Half an hour telephone conversations with your mother in an open plan office? Lovely for you but, not so much for everybody else.
6. Just ‘cos you smoke doesn’t mean ten more extra breaks than non-smokers.
7. Yes! Talk really, really loud on the phone! We really enjoy listening to you too! Almost as much as that inane chit-chit to your neighbour about your son’s bowel movements.
8. Bolting at the door at pre-cise-ly at 4.47pm on the dot, everyday, does not endear you to your workmates.
9. Yes, interesting how you’re all aggro in your emails, but smile at me and chat away in the lunchroom like butter wouldn’t melt.
10. Enough of the Really! Colourful! Loud! HUGE Fonts! and Graphics! in your group Social Club emails. You’re giving me a headache.

So, yeah, that was the party bit of me turning 40.

You know, I’m a bit melancholy about it being over and done with, because you don’t have your own special party every year and I had such a great time I wish I could reply it like a favourite DVD. Replay it over and over again.

The effort that all my family and friends put into their costumes, the music (the dancing! Especially to Canned Heat’s “Goin’ Up the Country” – a song that can only be appreciated fully while dancing to it in a muslin katfan with a crocheted vest) – just having straight out, good FUN with people I really care about.

But what I do still have to look forward to is a weekend away to celebrate my real, proper birthday (on Sunday) this coming weekend with the Other Harf. Location unknown, all very hush-hush and on the QT, but I am so looking forward to it – just as much as I did my party.

Almost fully recovered from last night..it was a complete blast! Everyone made a great effort with their costumes and we danced and drank and laughed and said “Peace, man” a lot.

Photos tomorrow, when I can find where I put my camera…