Humanity

Birthday #47

Its great. I am always floating on my birthday, no matter what happens. I force my kids now, to make me a card. And its accompanied by a million groans and comments about lameness. and still i get a card so i feel the golden light in me flickering.

47. I have a friend who says that typically 47 is a crisis year for women. a real mid-point. (she is also 47) I say, I’m pretty strong right now, though tired, I’ll deal with whatever comes.

And. I’ve filled this past week with friends, one way or another. A super long phone call with the bestie, who will visit in august for the first time in many years. All the stories and reality tv of our dreams. or naps. but together!!

I saw a friend for burgers mid-week who was so very happy to see me.

My mom and sister took me out to a stunningly placed restaurant in my very own town. Fish tacos for the win.

I had a friend I haven’t seen for over two years come down and spend hours with me just watching a movie and talking. Alien. I had never seen it so had to do a little pacing and out-loud talking to the screen and the clear idiots on it. (I am definitely not a quiet thriller-watcher) I just watched the trailer again in order to link it up there, and couldn’t handle the ominous buildup feeling. Good lord. But its funny, so damn funny, to be so thrilled. And friends that love you are a bonified treasure.

Friends that love you are a bonified treasure.

bonified.

So I feel that, a lot, this birthday week. Love. and some hope trickles in. It makes such an enormous difference.

I don’t think I was entirely aware how much I was lacking it, hope. I can be very bogged down in the practical, believe it or not. 🙂

The sands are always shifting, right? And sometimes, they’ll bring you right to the oasis. Sometimes. They can. And why not?

Maybe I should get me some lottery tickets. (my almost 16 year old starts driver’s ed this week. Might need the boost.)

(Laughing.)

Love love, and hope.

me.

My mom and sister both have one of these. Now it’s my turn. That’s a lucky stone right there- the stripe, the striation. That’s me…. Lucky.

Humanity

Old enough.

Shah, right.

I got my taxes delivered to the tax man.

(my aunt can now breathe more freely…)

And after doing so I walked around the downtown of the small city I live near. I love this little city. I’ve spent some of my young adulthood here. There is so much that keeps changing and so much that is still the same. I re- remembered about crazy people and eye contact vs. no eye contact. Its debatable, really. Eye contact lets them know you’re not a pushover and also, if they’re truly crazy, gives them the belief that they should talk to you.

which i do not like.

So be it. call me walled off, whatever.

I’m old enough to do what I want, right?

I opted for no eye contact today but I did return the hellos I got with a hello and a smile directed at my own feet. And I did get a fabulous coffee and a breakfast sandwich that someone else made. AND I spent some time remembering the skater boys who owned the skate shop and who were so damn cute. I imagine they’re all dads now… Their store is hella bigger than it used to be, and I’m pretty damn happy for them. I spotted the restaurant that is so good at social media stuff. It was a good time. And I drove off like a grown up, feeling so happy that my taxes are now in someone else’s hands. There is a gaping hole on my desk where the paperwork was. How brilliant. How old am I, you ask? Plenty old, I say.

But there it is. I am just old enough to feel the satisfaction of one less dead branch hanging over my tent. One less broken rung in the ladder. This is the week I replaced all the flickering light bulbs and re-hung the clothesline. These are the things. And in my days and nights when I don’t recognize them as ‘enough’, there are other things too.

There are the secretaries who call the wrong number on the medical form when they should be calling the kid’s dad. We laugh, and they get all the information from me anyhow. Because I’m the mom. Women are good, and we laugh together. I like that.

My garden is growing, in fits, and waiting is hard for me. legitimately hard. but I have a thing to do every day now when I’m avoiding a feeling or a project and its good for me, and i think the cucumber plants know my name now, so we’re all doing better for it.

And I’ll be okay about the summer. I will. (just remind me of this post, when i forget mid-july and begin to despair.)

And my tax man is already asking me questions and I am in love.

I’m definitely old enough.

love love,

kate

what an interesting photo, you say? hmm. yes. Intersections of empty. And a fairy on a frog, intersected.