Penny Weaver: Post-Menopausal Zest Woman

Russian hollyhocks from Nadya.

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Excerpts from The Sands of Gower: A Mystery Novel
 Maybe this summer on Gower she would find a real partner, who wouldn’t mind her poetry. She scared men off when she let them know she was interested, especially if she wrote them a poem. Fifteen years out of a miserable marriage, and she still hadn’t found a new love. Of course, she had goals of her own. She wasn’t going to waste her post-menopausal zest years hung up in some man’s idea of how she should serve his needs. She’d wasted too much time already doing that.

Her three children were launched now, theoretically, and her ex-husband, whom she was very sure that she did not want to remarry, could be held off more firmly. She could focus on herself, create more time for her poetry. She did want to remarry. She had often argued that it was possible for a woman to have both a marriage and her own quest plot. Now was her chance.

... . So she kept coming back. Her youngest child, Sarah, had just gotten married, and she was rewarding herself with two months this time. Evelyn, who, each time they said goodbye, wondered gloomily if she’d ever see her again, as she was 75 now, had agreed to give her her favorite single room. She could write a whole book of new poems and settle into the more human rhythms she always found here.
Only herself to see to. Only her teeth to worry about getting brushed; only her money to be sure not to lose. As they turned into the village of Pwll-du, she felt the familiar tug of that wonderful time alone. She would write. She knew it. The words were already taking on a presence in her mind.   Judy Hogan