Friday, December 31, 2010

The Year A-new

Here we are, once again at the last day of the year.  I for one don't like time, dates, and the calendar.  They really don't mean anything but we as a species seem driven to measure, categorize, split, and mark each and every thing.  There really is no way to avoid it I guess.

As a crone I don't like being reminded that there are (in all probability) more dates behind me than there are in front of me. I've never really FELT as if December 31st is the last day of the year and January 1st is the first. 

I begin to notice that there is this wonderful shift in how everything feels around the end of October. The golden light of autumn seems to suddenly fade and then the dark time begins.  The air feels different, the light is different and the world seems to go to sleep until about the end of February.  Soon you begin to notice that there are signs of awakening in the world, green buds, birds are singing, the light seems brighter and the air fresher.  I like to go on feel, not on arbitrary calendar dates.

That being said the world is determined to make me follow the norm of dates and be it.  I'll celebrate the end of this year, the start of the next and I'll be happy.  I'll look back and look forward with the rest of you, but deep in my heart I know that it's all something we've made up...and it doesn't mean a thing.

La Petite Crone says keep what's in your heart but never pass up an opportunity to celebrate.

Tuesday, December 28, 2010

Blood and Ink, a Christmas gift

One of the definitions of being a crone is that you are "excluded from the reproductive cycle" - but that doesn't mean that you always have been.  Thirty plus years ago I gave birth to my only son.  He came forth into this world with much grunting, yelling, sweat and blood. 

He was worth the effort even if over the years he has continued to elicit much grunting, yelling, sweat and blood...not all of it good mind you.  One of the benefits of being "excluded from the reproductive cycle" and being a crone is that I really appreciate and value my son for all that he is and for all that he is not (like ordinary!).

Fast forward to a few of months ago.  My son calls and asks if I would like him to give me a tattoo for Christmas and my birthday.  This brought back memories of when I was a young and stupid nineteen year old in the military...standing in a tattoo parlour, deciding if I wanted a butterfly or flower tattooed on my bottom.  I ended up not being able to make up my mind and my bottom is the happier for it. 

Wow, a tattoo, I've always wanted one, but I'm a crone, I'm a silver haired olde granny....what to do.

What followed was months of trying to decide what I would want that would be with me for the rest of my life?  Is there something that I'd want permanently dyed into my crone skin?  As Himself was continually pointing out..."You realize this won't come off?"  Even if I had a tattoo and had it removed, while not visible it would still BE there, the memory would always be there.  So once you get one, it's there, forever.  Of course the rest of my life is a much shorter period now than it had been when I was nineteen.....(cackle).  Still, this was an important decision for me as I just didn't want any old thing without meaning.

I finally made my decision and Himself and I made the trek to visit my son and his family for the holidays.  The deed would be done.  My son would do the work in his kitchen.  Stencil made, butcher block sanitized and covered with plastic, ink out, needles at the ready, La Petite Crone straddling a chair, head buried in a pillow, shoulder ready...I said, "You know I'm a bit nervous about this?"

"YOU'RE nervous!  I'm tattooing my MOM!"

Thus it began.  What followed was an amazing experience.  From nine PM until twelve thirty AM my son worked on my tattoo.  The world seemed hushed except for the buzz of the needles.  His hands seemed warm as he tugged and stretched the skin on my shoulder.  Voices quiet we talked back and forth about what he was doing, the meaning of the tattoo, the color of the ink and the blood.  We talked about his tattoos and how he felt about them and what they meant to him.  Your body is good at handling pain and soon I was feeling that endorphin high. It seemed as if we were the only people in the world.

For me the "process" of my son giving me my tattoo became more important than the tattoo itself.  I can see why "primitive" cultures use the art of tattoo as a right of passage...something we as a western and "modern" civilization are sadly lacking.  It was a bonding experience, perhaps a way to finalize my bringing him into the world....he brought me into his.  So with some blood and ink I now feel as if I'm closer to my son than I have ever been. 

It was a wonderful Christmas present that I'll always have with me (since it won't come off!).  Thank you my son.

La Petite Crone says you never know what your greatest gift may be.

Monday, December 27, 2010

Welcome from Le Petite Crone

Welcome and hello from "The Little Crone" (Le Petite Crone).  Come inside out of the gloom and rain and sit with me by my fire, stare into the flames, warm yourself, have a cup of tea and listen to my musings.  I promise not to cackle too much!

A bit about myself.  I live on "The Peninsula" - wet, gloomy, dark, windy, but gloriously green, alive and magical.  When the sun does shine you appreciate it...just like I've learned over the past many years to appreciate my life.  Sometimes it takes age, adversity and stupidity to help you become the person you have always wanted to be. 

Others who reside here with me in my cottage are Himself, the love of my life, my soul mate, husband, best friend and the source of my stability.  I can always count on Himself to be reasonable, logical and well....just himself.  Of course there are my faithful Mini-Minions, my oh so very strange dogs Rupert (a one eyed, blind Bull Terrier) and Boomer (a psycho Mini Australian Shepherd who is a comic of amazing ability). My Mini-Minions provide comfort, companionship, entertainment and many life lessons.

My hope is to share my musings and observations as a crone, or perhaps more as a "crone in training" since I'm certainly not finished.  I doubt I ever will be....but the journey is fun and funny, exciting, illuminating, scary, puzzling, challenging all the things that make life worth while.

Please join me by my fire......