I can't believe I started my daily postings on Ocean when I was just 50! What compulsion! I wrote a book about the first third of my life, the young part, I wrote Ocean about the latest third of my life, the, um, older part. I wrote journals about the stuff inbetween, but I threw those away. Thank God. When you write just for yourself, or at least when I wrote just for myself, I forgot about the part where a writer needs to learn how to edit even more than she needs to know how to write.
So here I am at the unremarkable age of 73. Though I do think it's remarkable that I am up and running still at 73. When I was a kid, I hoped I'd make it to 50. That was in my gloomy adolescent period. Which lasted past my adolescence, though there were high points. Rarely on my birthdays though. Birthdays started being fun when the kids were born. It took me until then to realize that I really am not a party animal. So, small celebrations with people I love. Plenty special.
Do most people feel this way about their birth date? April 21st always loomed so large in my mind. Inflated, out of proportion to the event, which, after all, is just one birth out of trillions of others. Despite the insignificance of one human, one grain of sand in a multitude of others, I feel, quite selfishly actually, that this date is mine. Forget the fact that the date also belongs to Queen Elizabeth, John Muir, Charlotte Bronte and the less awesome Joe McCarthy. I might note that April, at least in America, is the second least common birth month (February, by virtue of its shortness takes the number one spot). But I think it's the most fabulous. And April 21st? What can I say, it thrills me.
I wake up, check the messages, the emails. As promised, this day's weather is just superb! Best April 21st ever. Sunny, in the 70sF (about 24C). I'm drunk with the spring feel to it.
Millie is too. A happy pup!
I decide to do breakfast on the porch. With some of the plants outside now, to make it a little sweeter.
Millie isn't convinced that this is a change for the better. She permits a photo, then retreats to wait inside.
Next on the agenda? We pick up Ed at the farmette...
... And drive along the beautiful rural roads...
... To the flower greenhouses that are my favorites: Natalie's and Kopke's. Not for the usual annual flower purchase this time. Just a combo pot (or two?) from each.
(Natalie's: "I want to go that way!")
("have you picked something yet?")
("Yes!")
(Kopke's: "not sure I like this cart...")
And back to the farmette lands. Oh, does Millie love walks in the thick grasses here!
Then: lunch with Millie and Ed, at Tati's.
(At home: flowers from Ed)
After, Millie returns to doggie daycare, I pick up the kids. Sparrow, Snowdrop. I walk Goose, who is at home with a kennel cough. The kids and I come back with Millie to Sally's House.
(As usual, both kids fuss over Millie as if she were a delicate little butterfly)
And the gang comes over, along with Ed, for a celebratory aperitif. We split a half bottle of champagne and we don't even finish it. This is what a 73rd birthday looks like!
And there are presents. Lovely ones, picked by the kids, my daughter, friends.
(a photo of me with the three of them)
(wait, lets get the parents into this!)
They leave, Ed brings a pizza, we turn on a show that is more my choice than his, though I tend to always want stuff that I know he'll like because it's more fun that way, so it's him deferring to me who then picks something that defers to his taste palate.
And finally, I watch a very special video from my two in Chicago...
And the day comes to a close.
How can I not be nuts about this moment in time when joy, love abound? So much good in my life, our lives... So much! I'm very, very grateful. An ancient 73 year old is feeling very very grateful. And, if I allow myself to ignore on this day the news of the world, I can indulge in feeling just plain happy.
with all my love...
