Happy Birthday to Me
76 and amazed how well I feel. Still fraying around the edges, but my core is holding. So where am I, where am I going? Not waxing philosophically. Too much to do, both short term (pumpkin pies to bake today plus I want to work in the yard, and I’d really like to paint, but that’s not possible with grandchildren around, which I wouldn’t trade for a second) and long term (although we are slowing down, I still want to spend a month or more in Europe, especially France and Italy. And Spain. And England, plus we really should drive around our Southwest.) As ever, I am shedding stuff but not as far along as I’d like. More and more, things mean less and less to me. For example, Windermere Garden Club is fundraising by collecting broken gold and silver jewelry to be traded in for cash. I am going to donate single earrings whose mate is irretrievably lost. I’d hoped to have them made into something. Now I know what it is: a donation. The pictures and other nostalgia still loom, and the sc...