I found this photo the other day on Picasa. I hadn’t seen it in ages and was struck by how much I do not look like my day-to-day self; to wit, I wear bold glasses, have impossibly fine, lank hair that is almost always tied back in a no-nonsense ponytail or bun, and wear either subtle or no makeup.  It’s always neat to see what a team of pros can do – in this case, as a few facebook friends said, “Wow”! What I love most about this picture is that I’m smiling at something my husband has said – he’s been cropped out of this photo because he doesn’t like the way he looks in it, but he has the look of a man who has just made his beloved laugh. Honestly, I’m way too young to have a heyday photo, really. I’m calling it that because this is the photo I might show grand-nieces and nephews someday in the far-off future when youth and a dewy complexion have been replaced with character lines and a wee bit of gravitas. And, truth be told, when this photo was taken, it was certainly not my heyday. Money was tight, I was having trouble sleeping, was just starting to discover my love of cooking but hadn’t hit my stride, hadn’t put down many roots in the city and hadn’t travelled further east than Nova Scotia. The concept of a heyday is a weird one, because I feel like I’m living in it now, have been living in it for quite some time and have lots of plans to continue my heyday well into the future. Of course nothing is perfect, it wouldn’t be life if it was perfect, but I feel like I’ve found out much more about how I like to spend my time, how late I can really stay up when I actually kick back and relax, and exactly how many glasses of wine are too many (answer – one fewer than I usually have).  If that means that my reflection and this photo will slowly diverge, so be it.