Becoming Grownup

It's one a.m., and Hubby and I are just now going to bed. We can do that, though, because there's nobody to tell us not to. We're grownups.

Slowly, insidiously, we're turning into our parents. There's a Reagan calendar on the wall and an American flag in the front yard. The television is on 24/7. We don't listen to the radio; who can understand the words of those songs? Our favorite singers have all gone to Branson.

We watch the Dow Jones rise and fall religiously, though we haven't any investments to speak of. Our favorite shows are reruns. We like Andy and Barney, Ben Cartwright, Larry the Cable guy, and John-Boy.

Over time, the lines have blurred. He likes Lifetime movies; I like CSI. Once when I was gone, he watched my soap and told me about it. We share the same barber. I finish his sentences; he reads my mind. If we go out, I know when he wants to leave.

Sometimes he drags me outside to look at some phenomenon of nature - a meteor shower at 2 a.m., bright red cardinals perched in a snow-covered apple tree at Christmas, a once-in-a-lifetime view of a comet, or walnuts falling after a frost. Thanks, babe.

Being grownup? It's everything I thought it would be, and more.

The weather here is great. We've only had a couple of snows, and temperatures have been in the 50's for the last week or so. And spring is only 53 days away. How is it in your neck of the woods?

For those who like New York, especially if you read the Jeremiah's Vanishing New York blog, Pete Hamill, one-time editor-in-chief of the New York Post and the New York Daily News, has written a book called Downtown, My Manhattan. (2004) Hamill chronicles the ages of Manhattan "from its tooth-and-claw infancy through two centuries of metamorphosis -- through one man's eyes and memory".  Whether you have been to New York, or only viewed it through television and books, you have to admit it is fascinating.

Somewhere, crocuses are blooming and seed catalogs are waiting. Think spring!