A quarter of a century flown by

Today I turned 25, and for some reason this feels like a monumental birthday to me. Growing up, I always saw 25 as being the official marker of adulthood. (Who considers a 21-year-old an adult, really?) It’s the age your car insurance goes down, it’s a quarter of a century, it’s the age my parents were when I was born. There’s no denying it now, I’m really an adult.

Years from now, looking back on this birthday, I want to remember how completely content I am. Madly in love with my husband. Gainfully employed in a job that is fulfilling on most days, working with people I genuinely love. Working in an entirely different field that I imagined 3 years ago. Gaining rich, rewarding volunteer experiences. Still close to the people who have been my friends for 12+ years now. Earning enough to not struggle much from month to month, and close enough to recent history when that wasn’t the case to really appreciate what that means. Living day to day life in our cute, tiny, cozy little house filled with my favorite man, my favorite furry friends. A still relatively new homeowner that marvels at the ability to paint walls, tear up flooring, and create a home. Proud caretaker of a fledgling perennial garden that isn’t weeded as much as it should be. Increasing confidence in the direction of my life, of my redefined career goals, of my growth as a woman, wife, future mother, friend, employee.

I can’t help but wonder what the next quarter century has in store.  In another 25 years, I hope to be the proud mother of one or two college graduates. To have established a slightly larger, but still just as cozy home on an acre or so where our children come back to visit us, to stay in a home that’s filled with memories for them.

From Countryliving.com

To have a huge king sized bed with a worn, lumpy mattress from Saturday morning cartoons in bed with our kids and our dogs piled under the covers.

To still be madly in love with my handsome husband, getting ready for a new section of our life as the parents of grown children. To be established in my career, and have my husband in a career he loves, too. To have the time to really give back. To have a huge garden that feeds us in the summer but also fills the house with beautiful perennial flowers.

From thousandislandslife.com

To have traveled to a country on a different continent (preferably multiple countries and multiple continents). To know how to finish a quilt from beginning to end. To be looking forward to watching my husband’s eyes light up at holding our first grandchild. (Woah.)

Life is a beautiful, surprising, joyful journey. I am so thankful for these first 25 years and all of the simple pleasures they have held. To the next quarter century.

The reason behind the name

I almost named this blog 24 going on 80, but it didn’t seem quite sexy enough.

The credit can go mostly to my husband Matt. Throughout our young marriage, I have continued to adopt new hobbies. First it was gardening, which started with some vincas and quickly grew to obsession. Then, it was attempting crochet. And tearing out the yarn, and attempting again. And giving up, and attempting again. Then, it was cooking locavore food based off of things in the garden, found at the farmer’s market, and everything made from scratch. This resulted in hours spent in the kitchen on the weekends, crafting together delicious dinners. Not at all a bad way to spend a Saturday.

Then, it was a brief foray into cheese making. Homemade breads. Stock from scratch. Then sewing … which I developed an interest in before I owned a sewing machine. Then it was quilts and baby blankets and baby blocks and stuffed animals and pot holders and pillowcases and ornaments and tablerunners. It was compulsive  fabric collecting and puppet making.

At some point, he told me that he never realized his 24-year-old wife would so quickly take on ‘old woman’ hobbies. And it’s true. While other 24-year-0lds are still hitting the bar, we’re sitting home with episodes of Project Runway and skeins of yarn stretched between us on the couch.

This blog is dedicated to all things handmade, homemade, vintage, quirky, old fashioned and lovely. It’s dedicated to those with nontraditional hobbies, who don’t mind being the youngest in a quilting group or knitting circle. It’s dedicated to ardent feminists who still feel a rush at completing a craft project. And it’s dedicated to my husband, who waits in line at fabric stores and never asks how much was spent; who eagerly runs to the sewing table, garden or kitchen to see the latest treasure; and who teases but always encourages.

A bowl of tomatoes from summer's garden.