I meant to write a post about the gorgeously pink prickly pear margaritas my neighborhood BFF Melissa introduced me to the other week (because how could I have worked in food service this long without knowing prickly pear syrup was so delightfully PINK?!), but it keeps turning introspective.
I have ages and stages on my mind. (Maybe it’s because my silver roots are showing, and maybe THIS time I’ll let them grow in. Maybe it’s because I’ve got PMS. Or maybe it’s that I’ve got one kid headed into middle school and one headed into high school. I don’t have small children anymore. I have medium-sized children.) But it’s probably/mostly that when my friend Melissa and I got together to tinker with the prickly pear margarita recipe for this blog, we talked about our lives, as we always do because Melissa is my daily/weekly/monthly minutiae friend. Her kids have been just enough older than mine for the last fifteen years that she’s given me great advice on breastfeeding, preschools, soccer schedules, and college admissions. She’s all that plus top-shelf liquor. #keeper
Our kids are growing and grown. Our parents are aging. Our marriages are mature. Here’s my question: does everyone get to this point in their lives and feel like they are standing in the middle of a see-saw with juicy youth under one foot and middle age under the other? Is that what a mid-life crisis is about? Dying those roots and seeing if you can lean into the action a little longer? Feeling like you better change/hustle/break out RIGHT NOW because this is your last chance to seize YOUR moment?
The Prickly Lady Cocktail recipe, by the way, is a keeper, too. I wanted to put my own spin on it and make it mine for the blog, so I bought Pavan, a liquer made from muscat grapes and redolent of orange blossoms, thinking I could swap it for the ginger liquer. I’d never seen Pavan, and I was captivated by the rainbow peacock on the bottle. As it turned out, I could not improve on the original recipe. There is something perfectly balanced in the combination of prickly pear, ginger liquer, tequila, and lime, so please go on over to loveandoliveoil.com for the recipe. I’m thinking a Pavan and grilled grapefruit margarita might be pretty spectacular, so I’ll keep trying with the Pavan. (Oh, don’t you worry!)
Ah, mid-life. I always thought I would age gracefully. Soften into it. Surrender youth for something equally desirable: wisdom. I didn’t think it would feel like giving up. I didn’t think I’d be sorry. I thought I’d be ready, but there’s some inner kicking and screaming going on. Please don’t misunderstand my despair. I’m WELL aware I’ve got it really good in many big life categories, and I’m deeply grateful. I’m just having a moment or twenty of introspection, and, like with that prickly pear margarita and your BFF’s troubles, sometimes you can’t make it better.
But you can be there. Acknowledge. Appreciate. Be prickly. Fill a glass with a Prickly Lady Cocktail and raise it to life’s pretty pink surprises. Of course, it’s easier with cocktails, when you can give the rainbow peacock a try without making any major life changes…especially when you realize you had it right the first time.
Are you prickly? Have you been prickly? Have wisdom to share? Please do! All comments left on this post and A Visit to the Ripped Bodice will enter you in a contest to win a book from Culver City’s most romantic bookstore.
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