Today, I turn 40 years old! Hard to believe although I have to say that I don't really feel any older. I'm still in school (albeit on the instructor's side of the desk), I'm still pretty thin, I still have all of my hair (no grey yet, but much shorter than in the old "heavy metal days"), and I still play with toy soldiers -- but not Legos! Hmmm, no wonder I still feel as if I'm about 17!
I don't exactly feel like Ward Cleaver yet ( ". . . and Jerry Mathers as the Beaver"). Still, it's interesting to be at the midpoint of one's life -- technically middle-age -- where there is supposed to be all sorts of taking stock. Where I've been. Where I'm going. . . in the little time left. Stuff like that.
My wife and I had dinner with another couple we are friendly with Saturday evening. The subject of my birthday came up. I joked that we would celebrate as usual, but that afterwards, much like a wounded animal, I'd retreat to a quiet place in the woods to die!
Dark sense of humor aside, I think this is a good age. The foibles, faults, and rash decisions (not too many) of my teens, 20s, and early 30s are well behind me (hopefully). Sonja and I are married. . . finally! Personally and professionally, I'm doing things I enjoy with people I enjoy. And my commercial writing consultancy is growing little by little. All we need is a bit more dependable snowfall this winter here in central Illinois for cross-country skiing, and life would be pretty close to perfect! Come to think of it, if I could just find another 3-6 hours in each day for painting soldiers, life would be perfect.
On that final note, there is a bit of cruel irony in today. Athough it's my birthday, I doubt that there will be time to spend working on my soldiers after dinner, gifts, and phone calls from family members. On top of that, there is reading and lesson planning for my film history course Tuesday morning. Sigh. Maybe Tuesday evening? As the Norwegians say, kryss fingrane (cross your fingers)!