In just a few hours I will have completed thirty-one revolutions around the sun. Good job, me! And thanks, mom and dad! And everyone else involved, really.
Last year on my thirtieth birthday it was a jumble. I was days away from moving our family for the first time (and in denial); I then had a surprise party that included employees, friends, FOO – who I typically would have to beg or cajole to visit, including during times I faced surgery and baby-birthin’ – and this great party only minutes after I’d discovered our dear lovely family cat Fancy had been killed. It was an amazing, wonderful, and emotional ride; this year I’m content with a lot quieter. I love the idea of being 31. I like the number itself.
The weekend entailed a visit from college friend Jodi, husband Doug, and their two children Cyan and India. After they left I darted back to my sewing room to finish baby booties for Nels’ teacher’s imminent birth and enjoyed my mother’s company for a dinner of cabbage rolls and baked potatoes courtesy of Ralph’s cooking. So all-in-all at 9 PM I’m tired but grateful and content and looking forward to a lie-in.