Grocery Store

Today I'm turning 38.  Or maybe I already did.  Don't know what time my dear mom finished the work of bringing me into this world.  (Thanks, Mom.  Happy Birth Day to you too.)

Birthdays after 35 seem like a trip to the grocery store.  You don't really look forward to it but you must go. Then when you cross through the automatic doors you can't help but feel a little bit thrilled at all the possibilities.  And yet, inevitably you ignore the new fun stuff and buy your 2% milk, carton of eggs, and honey wheat bread.

You come home, unpack your groceries and end up here:

So today, I'm going to change the script.  I might have to go to the grocery store but I will not just get the usual.

Because at 38 I find myself in this Crucible rewarding phase, working toward inner happiness not contingent on condition, surrounded by the loveliest of you, and smarter than to let one more day pass where I leave without choosing the fun stuff more often.

Happy First Day of Summer, you guys.  Grab a little fun for yourself however you can today.  Doesn't have to be illegal.  But do call me if it is because that sounds exciting.

I'm off to play in a sprinkler,

sing someone to sleep,























and nibbly my way through a pretty tower of things I will try not to regret tomorrow.