Zero Significance

Birthday flowers and The Boom Box 

I recently celebrated a milestone birthday—not 16, or 18, or 21—but one of those birthdays that end in zero. A big, fat, significant zero—and I don’t mean the one with the four in front of it, although God bless you for even thinking that was the birthday in question. (Also, you should probably make an appointment to get your eyes checked, but God bless, all the same.) 

No, I’m talking about an existential zero.

Dinner at a civilized hour, I swear

This birthday is the birthday that makes me eligible for certain discounts, and apparently-- my pockets stuffed with coupons--likely to tip over at any moment. And now, at this advanced age, I will no longer spring back to my feet like a female Willy Wonka, but will be surrounded by anxiously solicitous people, inquiring as to the solidity of my hip bones. Now when I get a bit hungry late in the afternoon, the meal I eat will not be presumed to be a late lunch, but rather the tell-tale “Early Bird Dinner.” Dare I eat a peach? Wear white linen trousers, walk upon the beach? 

Oh sure, I’ve seen the chiropractor twice in two weeks, but that’s not because I’m “older”—it’s because I’m “active.” And my grandkids are HEAVY... 

 They say you’re as young as you feel, and I say I feel like—oh, 37. I feel like a bona fide adult--mostly—unless I gather with my friends from high school. Then we go from bona fide adult, to wanna-be bon vivant, to bonehead--- faster than you can say “I know you are, but what am I?” 

Mark has his doubts

Because this birthday was of such significance, I celebrated early, and often—with multiple cakes. Lemon cake, and Rhubarb Custard—which I suppose isn’t technically a cake, but it was cake adjacent. And also delicious. There was carrot cake, and coconut cake. And a perfectly adorable chocolate cake that wished me a “Happy 21(sic) Birthday.” I seem to be on track to have one cake per decade...And since I’m an adult, I didn’t have to eat my peas first. Which will come in very handy as I still have one cake to go.

Birthday Loot and the interior of The Boom Box

Perfect for the Keeper of Memory. Thanks Cee for organizing 

all the goofballs into action. Like herding cats, I suppose.

As young as you feel, right?

Spring Sprang Sprung

 “Hot enough for you?” Not the phrase you expect to be on people’s lips this time of year, but this weekend was certainly worthy of that exact conversation. Temperatures were well into the 70’s-- and even above that in some locations.

Aiden enjoys the outdoors

Vultures taking the sun

Tea Party

Congrats to the Newest Husky!

It was perfect weather for dining al fresco with friends and neighbors, celebrating milestones—congrats to Maricella—a newly minted “Husky”! Tea parties on the back deck, cuddling babies, moving into a new house—congrats Cameron and Beth! Mowing the grassing, hiking into* Packwood Lake, and all manner of other, outdoor, fair weather activity activities. 

John like cake. Clearly.

Lane didn't get any cake. Sad.

It was really good cake tho

*Disclaimer: we did hike into Packwood Lake. Just not all the way. Most of the way, sure. But once I started post-holing in a snow field that went on as far as the eye could see, well—that seemed a sign from the Patron Saint of Hikers that it was time to turn around. So, we did.

Spring seems to have sprung with intention this year. However, I am a lifelong Northwesterner and this is not my first rodeo. Even as I formulate these words I can feel the clouds rolling in. Good thing I already mowed my lawn. And yes, I call my patch of thatch, moss, and weeds “lawn.” It’s green, and I mow it: lawn. It was also very dusty, so if you were my neighbor? This would have been a very bad weekend to hang your laundry out to dry.

My straw bales are “cooking” nicely. It won’t be long before I’ll be able to plant them. And speaking of plants, I’m really itching to start my annual Nursery-Hopping Road Trip. I guess “trips” plural would be more accurate, because once I start buying flowers it’s hard to stop. 

Speaking of flowers---during our hike on Sunday I spotted a lone Lady Slipper orchid; a fragile wildflower I haven’t seen in years. Perhaps Lady Slippers were just waiting for the perfect spring day to put in their appearance.