I just read Indigo Bunting's "Girl" post, and the earlier one that I missed the first time around, and realize that aside from some editing skills (hers more pronounced than mine) we have nothing in common.
For starters, I have an overabundance of maternal instinct. I gave birth to three children, and wish I had five. Or maybe seven. Seven is a nice number. I have two dogs and three cats, and that is minimal compared to how many we used to have.
I like makeup, and I love my hair. I sew and bake and hook rugs. I like to cook, especially for other people. I'm a passionate gardener. (I'm not a good housekeeper, but we don't talk about that.)
Thanks to being largely raised by a single dad, I have plenty of boy genes to go with my girl genes. I achieved fame in high school via my ability to throw perfect, long, spiral football passes. A little later, I lightened numerous wallets by betting that I could beat people (all guys) at bar shuffleboard. I played volleyball until my joints got too old to handle it. When I was young, I wanted to grow up to be a woman like Carole Lombard: equally at home in a flannel shirt and jeans or a slinky black gown.
Anyway, getting back to our friend IB, accessories don't do a thing for me. I do like jewelry, but necklaces are my hands-down favorite. I have only one watch. After all my gold and gemstone jewelry was stolen, I started collecting silver and natural stones—jasper, agate, fossils. One does not find these at estate sales. EBay is my store of choice.
I would never ever pay more than 40 bucks (on sale, on clearance, or online, but 40 bucks nevertheless) for a handbag. I cringe at the thought.
Yet, I enjoy IB's blog. A lot. I've always enjoyed it. And I'm always happy to see her comments on mine. Maybe people don't need common ground to like one another. Or maybe the common ground is broader—things like being smart, being funny, being kind. Indigo Bunting is all of these.
Now that I think about it, my beloved daughter Suzanne thinks she's nothing at all like me. I disagree with that assessment, but there are certain areas in which we have no overlap whatsoever. For instance, she skis. She went sky diving, and wouldn't mind doing it again. And probably right at this moment she's out riding around on a snowmobile. I have but one word for all these things: Oy.