It’s my birthday, and never a more anti-climactic birthday have I experienced. My daughter is in the middle of final exams and my husband is out of town on business until tonight. What surprises me is how little I mind.
50 was a big deal. 51 is not. I consciously enjoyed my final hours of being 50 last night while watching Keith Olbermann on MSNBC (T. says he’s the “other man” in my life), knitting, and sipping a glass of white wine. Now that’s the kind of multi-tasking I really enjoy.
This morning I ran errands, fulfilling a quest for stronger, broad spectrum sunblock, hunting down the perfect Father’s Day gifts for my husband, who seems to be feeling a bit under-appreciated lately (aren’t we all?). I finished making a batch of fresh mint (yes, from the garden) chocolate chip ice cream – a Father’s Day gift we can all enjoy. The fresh spearmint gives the ice cream a very pale green tint, totally unlike that suspicious bright leprecaunish color of commercial ice creams. The flavor is lovely – intensely minty yet subtle because there’s very little sugar (does that compensate for the half-dozen egg yolks? I wish.).
A friend is taking me out to lunch this afternoon, and several others will be treating me to lunch or dinner next week… I love these birthday celebrations that continue for days, if not weeks. My friends are the best!
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