What is it about birthdays as you get older? I just can't seem to rustle up the excitement like I used to. I actually had to do the math this year to even remember exactly how old I was going to be.
44. Today. I got just what I wanted. A busy but productive day; happy noisy kids at school all day, house projects going great guns, one of a kind art-class made birthday gift from Molly, a happy birthday wish from my mom.
A friend brought over some island foraged Chanterelle mushrooms and some smoked salmon. Jake made me the lightest, fluffiest sauteed Chanterelle Parmesan omelet. And, we topped it all off with ice cream sundaes with candles and a song.
Basically, I consider myself a very lucky gal. There is something more than a little bit free-ing about not really caring about it all that much. There are so many other things to think about rather than how old I am or will I be.
So, maybe next year I will muster up some more energy to celebrate 45. If not, definately by 50.
Conversations with a teenager
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