Today is my friend's 60th birthday. She's having a big bash with a ton of people. I'm all in favor of celebrating these milestones. I have a red dress and I am steppin' out tonight.
In the meantime, it's raining and a mountain of laundry is awaiting, and the ordinary moments are clustering around waiting for some attention. I need to get a birthday card and some other cards. Yes, I'm that old that I still like to send a regular card through the mail. I have yet to do Evites and that sort of thing. I'm fine if someone else does, it just is not me. So much of my life has carried the import of letters and handwriting and notes. I've saved almost everything ever written in the last quarter century. Yes, some day I'll sort through and get rid of a lot, as none of my kids would be remotely interested. But I'm waiting for an auspicious occasion and the right containers to seal up these voices from the past. Now people have videos and Facebook. I respect that. I'm just not of that age.
So tonight I'm going dancing, and 60 is sounding younger and younger, and celebration is perfect for my friend. She will see all the people and family who love her, and she has a great partner, so life is good for her. And she knows it.
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