It’s my 26th Birthday on Friday. Not exactly a huge deal but in the deep recesses of my mind, I’ve been toying with time-lines. This time in 25 years, I’ll be celebrating my 50th. I’m nearer the ‘30’ mile stone than the ‘20’ and in two days time, I will have to relinquish my right to a ‘young person’s rail card’. It seems that 26 is a sign of significant maturity in the UK (yes I’m back from Florence – my sensible older alter-ego got the better of me).
Robert Kennedy states that youth is ‘a temper of the will, a quality of imagination, a predominance of courage over timidity, of the appetite for adventure over the life of ease.’ With this echoing in my ears, it appears that I’ve certainly gone to the dark side. In a few months time I will be ‘glamping’ – camping but with a glamorous veneer. It involves the fun of being outdoors and sharing with your ‘mates’ but with the pleasures of domesticity. Basically it’s camping’s older, more sensible twin. No fear of ‘head colds’ for me, I will be tucked up in double-duvets and Egyptian cotton sheets.
After reading an article in The Times yesterday on how to grow old gracefully (nothing wrong with reading around the subject!) I’ve since invested in a book called ‘What French Women Know: About Love, Sex, and Other Matters of the Heart and Mind’. Yes, I may be verging on the eccentric for indulging my mind, at the age of 25/26, with these rambling lines of thought but I’m a perfectionist and the Mediterranean women seem to have this ageing process all wrapped up. Italian men positively adore the ‘older woman’ and if I want to end up in this bracket, I need to crack their secret before it’s too late… It’s all about being ahead of the game (it appears organization comes with ageing too).
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