6 months. And aging (unrelated)

As of March first, we'll have been here 6 months.
We still miss our Jellybean city very much.
The dirty hills, cracked roads and salt-caked everything. I even miss the wet, lack of sunshine. Yes, I'm nostalgic for two-weeks of an over-cast sky.

For the first time, in my entire life, I have dry skin. Bumpy, itchy. I didn't even know what to do about it, Mr.Fella had to show me the best moisturizers for arms and hands.

I'm convinced it's because this is the furthest I've ever lived from the ocean in my life. My body is rejecting it.

Ottawa.
Mr.Fella had some relatives who were visiting and they kept asking us for directions to different parts of the city, but we couldn't tell them much. They thought it was weird that we didn't know more. Our scope here is still so limited. Ottawa is almost ten times as big as St.John's, but it feels smaller.

I'm going gray.
No, really, like, pretty gray.

I've always said that I'll let my hair go gray; I've always subscribed to aging gracefully. But, now, at 26, facing streaky silver intruders along my temples every morning, it's the first time I've ever really had to think about it.
I think I'm still going to let myself go gray.

I like the idea that my body is a historical record of my life. It's not supposed to look like it's 18 forever, or that it's never done anything. It's not a project, or a shame, or a show-piece. It's where I live. It's me. It's my life.

I like my crooked thumb (I crushed it when I was 10)
I like the scars on my palms (I tried to rescue a cat from a dog when I was 7 and it freaked)
The cigarette burn on my arm (self-inflicted from a stupid, drunk, teen-aged adventure)

Maybe that's why I like tattoos, so much. They are permanent little windows of time. When I look at the one on my back, I always see myself, at 18 years old, skipping class to get it.
The one on my foot reminds me of the overwhelming haze of new motherhood.
They're so different, but they're so me.

The rest of me tells a story of a lady who's had a baby, is a little active, but likes to eat too. Comfortable, I think. Gray says I've seen some things. I think I'll come to like it, too.

On a somewhat related note, I posted this link to my husband's facebook wall today (yeah, facebook, how romantic). It's a photo project by a photographer named Lauren Fleishman. Each of these couples have been married at least 50 years. I think they're all beautiful.