My Mid-life Crisis

The evidence

• at the age of 46 I have commenced university studies
• I have been devoting myself to my garden
• I am enthralled by the very prospect of my own compost, right down to building my own small (suburban size) three bay compost bin
• I took a compost class for mother's day, not a Devonshire tea
• I only want to grow heritage crops

I didn't think it was mid life crisis material...but to some it clearly is.

What's got into me? I have finally decided that in a world gone mad with greed, and having been smacked around the face constantly by the dead fish of economic doom and gloom, I have fallen, sunk, slipped, tumbled into a desperate mid life crisis.

I rebel! I will make compost. I will scatter nitrogen, I will layer my composting materials, and turn them and talk to them and nurture them, until they reach bay three and then I will love them, and cherish them as I fold them ever so gently into my vegetable gardens-like egg whites into a sponge mix.

I will speak to my crops, I will sit and drink tea with them, I will lament my latest university assignment with them.

And I'm going to plant a fruit tree. Not some modern created/GE/cross bred variety, but an old one, a heritage one, perhaps a Northern Spy. I would have loved a Nonsuch Peasgood apple tree simply because it's such an amazing name!

Many people, I understand, delve into a mid life crisis of depression, hot flushes, sweats, anxiety, loneliness, along with the lamentation 'where has my life gone?'...but I seem to have gone all hippie.

Other people are obsessing about the economy, house prices, clothes, shoes, bags, food, the dreadful news, and all I care about is my compost!

Autumn, the burgeoning announcement of winter's approach, has never been my favourite season. Though the changes of leaf colour have always been beautiful, they heralded something I dreaded, the freeze of winter, the shivering struggle to keep warm-I am a summer person. Lately, I am almost embarrassed to say, I have found autumn the most exciting season since my 'crisis' began. Each time I look at my lawn and see a heavy scattering of leaves (from the neighbour's trees, because we don't have any on our small property) I feel a tiny thrill of glee which, naturally, sends me to the shed for the garden rake.

With great delight, as if someone had offered me a bag of sweets, I rake up the leaves, rejoicing in their glorious abundance. Though I cannot put them all into bay one of the compost system I can at least put them into bay three and store them there until they are ready to be layered into bay one. (Anyone worth his/her salt knows that when layering in the compost materials you don't put too much of any one thing in at a time-it is all a very sacred science.)

In the past I had raked up these nuisance leaves and put them in the rubbish drum, now I rejoice that they will nourish a compost which will enrich my gardens and grant me a crop of flowers, fruits and vegetables which will make me the envy of all Christchurch! And yes, I rejoice at lifting the lid of my compost system and observing the slow breakdown of my compost and the lush third bay harbouring my patient leaves...there's not really any way to say that and not sound like a nutter is there?

If this is my mid life crisis-and there have been affirmations from family and friends alike that it is-you know what? I can live with it?