The meeting of two worlds?

What on earth has happened to me?

This evening I found myself in the garden, planning a vegetable patch.
Not only planning it, but actually toiling in the garden, turning manure into the soil and building small pathways.

I'm now sporting two symmetrical blisters, one on each thumb, after chopping down a small forest on Saturday.

The sick thing is, I actually enjoyed it.

I went out at lunchtime with the idea of spending an hour in the garden drinking cider, but ended up 4 hours later obsessed with weeds.

As a teenager I would do anything to avoid working in the garden. This usually involved lying in bed until 4pm and ignoring Dad mowing the same patch of grass outside my window for hours.

Into early adulthood I never really got the urge or the chance to give it any thought. It has continued that way until recently.
I dabbled briefly with growing certain kinds of herbs, but that was thwarted by a moment of sheer paranoia.

I've now spent about £120 gathering together various gardening essentials, from which I hope to raise a crop of vege which would probably cost, hmm, £10 in the shops.

There I was with a tape measure and a pen, plotting out where I'd plant the beans, onions, peppers - someone take my temperature.

I've taken up other alarmingly "fogey" style habits lately. I like walking. I like walking across fields in green Wellington Boots.
I've gained more than a passing interest in photography. I no longer play an unhealthy amount of video games.

On the flipside - and this probably constitutes a mid-life crisis - I'm dressing like a teenager. It's sad, but I don't really care. I got myself some Converse all-stars and an iPod. Sure, fashion wise I'm probably 10 years out of date and shape wise, more than 20. Gravity has taken it's toll!

Is this the meeting of two worlds?
Is this the "mid life crisis?"

If so, I quite like it...

... Bring it on!


See my Butt.