On Turning 40

Turning 40 didn’t worry me.

Back when it happened, there were several people that asked me about it and I truly found that when it came down to it, it was a bloody good reason to have a big birthday bash and that was about it.

Now Caroline has turned 40 and I had more reason to stop and think about it again. I still haven’t changed my mind. Caroline seemed to think that it wasn’t a particularly big deal, but did note that she really wasn’t looking forward to turning 50. There’s that little part of me that backs away from thoughts like the fact that 40 might be half way and the spiralling path toward my own mortality, but let’s not go getting all morbid.

When I did stop to think about it long enough, it came down to where I was at with my life. Did I have any significant regrets? Did I feel that I’d missed out and was running out of time? Not at all.
When I looked at where I was at the age of 40, I was in a good place (this hasn’t changed, by the way, its simply that this is retrospective!). I was (and am) married to an amazing woman, we have four kids that so far seem to be on the right track and not causing too much stress and grief (of course most of them aren’t teenagers yet) and we were living on the other side of the world and getting to do some pretty darn cool things with our lives.

Had I not been married, or had we not had kids or travelled, then perhaps there would have been something in the regrets column to tick off. Perhaps not having owned a car that goes 0-60 in the blink of an eye could be listed there, but it’s so material that it really doesn’t stack up against all of the things that I do have. About 10 years after I’d left Singapore, I did start to wonder whether I’d ever have more stories to tell to compare to those that I’d taken away from that experience. I didn’t want to be 20 years past my time there and still telling those same stories, at least, not without something from later on to spice it up.

And fortunately for me, I’ve even managed to do that. Canada was an amazing experience and even more so for the fact that I was able to share it with my family. I’ve filled up on stories, seen more of the world and of course been left with a few more things that I’d like to add to the bucket list. After all, the more of the world you see and the longer you live, the more things you hear about that you’d like to get to do.

So 40 wasn’t a big deal. Just watch out for the next time that I feel that my stories are getting a little stale. Who knows where that might take us.

And so it begins ...

…One little rabbit’s battle for survival.

Emily is about to turn 8 and the thing that she’s wanted more than any other thing in the whole entire world is a pet. She would go totally insane if a little puppy dog was to ever front up to this house and be a permanent resident.

Let’s face it though, we’re horrible, evil parents who can’t be bothered cleaning crap off the lawn and living with a dog’s life span, so that’s simply not going to happen. Instead, we’ve opted for a pet that will provide a little bit of joy and entertainment (at least for the first week?) but that won’t live quite as long. We’re not wishing that the poor little mite finds and early grave or anything, we’re just investing in a shorter term option.

So today a tiny little bunny arrived in the house much to the utter delight of a nearly 8 little girl. Named Ginger (with the possible alternate of General Flopsy), its’ currently found itself wrapped in a towel and being toted around the house. I’m not convinced that by the time that we return from purchasing a hutch for it, it won’t have managed to flee to the far corner of the garden and beyond as its instincts for survival take charge!

Of course the greatest danger to the little blighter is the very real chance that it gets loved to death!