So, it’s my birthday.
I ran Week 1, Day 3 of Couch to 5K this morning. (My dad: “You’re 35 and can still run?” Har-dee-har-har)
I perused the local treasures at a garage sale down the street and sampled the coffee at my favorite neighborhood roaster.
The kids played outside while I sat on the porch and finished the novel I’m currently reading.
A friend stopped by with a gift and the smell of the lilacs she clipped from the bush at her house is filling my house with my favorite springy scent.
We ate lunch on the porch and the boy fell asleep watching “Toy Story.”
I finished the novel.
I washed some dishes because if I took my birthday as a vacation, we’d be eating off the table and with our hands for the next two days.
We’re back outside.
The sun is shining.
Our bills are paid.
My husband doesn’t know it yet, but I think we’re going out to eat tonight.
Not all is right with the world but today I believe it will be.
Today, I am 35.
And in some ways, I feel life is just beginning.
