For as long as I have memory, my parents would wake me up at 6:30 AM every August 7th of every year to tell me that this was the exact time I was born and then they'd sing the Happy Birthday song to me and tell me how much they loved me and were so glad that God had brought me to them. I may have been born early in the morning, but somehow that never translated into me being a morning person. I'd rub my eyes, give them a half-smile of equal parts bliss and annoyance, and tell them I just wanted to go back to sleep. Later in the day, there would be the sweet scent of yellow cake baking in the oven, later to be frosted with chocolate butter cream. Some years, my sister would volunteer to bake the cake and she'd get fancy with orange frosting and decorate it with twisted thinly sliced oranges. Family dinner would be followed by another much louder rendition of "Happy Birthday to You" and chants of "Make a wish! Make a wish!" before blowing out the candles. And then the much anticpated/dreaded smash of the face into one side of the cake. Tradition. I loved everything about it. Except the cake. I hated cake. And though my palette has certainly changed and matured over the years, my dislike for cake never has.
I turned 58 years old today. The older I get the younger the big numbers seem to be. Maybe it's a little head game I play with myself. "Oh wow! 58 is so young! Just imagine when I'm 104!" It keeps me from wigging out.
I didn't feel like doing anything special today. I love my life. Each day I wake up excited to be in the world and ready to take on new and interesting challenges and adventures. I did agree to gift myself a new phone. My current one is over five years old, making it almost a relic by now. Dave and I drove down to the big city of Heber and picked my phone up along with our mail. Then we drove over to the AT&T store to have it activated. The young man helping us almost made the mistake of opening the i-phone box for me. "No! Wait! Please let me open it.....it's sssoooo satisfying!" He froze, then shrugged his shoulders and said, "I totally get it." He handed it over and I had my little thrill of the moment opening it. As I did I could hear myself saying in my head, "I won't keep this box...I won't keep this box...." If you know, you know. I'm also an fierce tag ripper. If I read a label or tag that says on it, "Do not remove this tag" It's gone. With a vengeance. It's my tag, and I'll rip it if I want to. My babies that were born in the 80's and 90's (in the olden days before labels were stamped onto clothing instead of sewn on), had holes in the necklines of their little white onesies where I'd ripped the tags. No itchy tag was ever going to defile my precious baby's neck.
Dave and I walked out to the car. "You want to go eat somewhere? Go to a movie? It's your day! You choose." I leaned back in the passenger seat, "I'd like to eat at home and then go to my Barre class this evening, and then look at my baby box of pictures. Besides I have some sourdough bread that's ready to bake when we get back home and also there aren't any good movies out anyway."
I came across this one. My brother Andrew and I have birthday three days apart. We have celebrated nearly every one of our childhood birthdays together, so when I think back on my birthdays, I inevitably think of his. I think this is one way we learned that the world didn't revolve around us; but that we were part of a loving family and we each had a unique role in it. I think this is the year I got a slinky and maybe some roller-skates. I think Andrew got a Kodak instamatic. I want to never forget that the simplest pleasures are the best.
I'm sure the cake was great if you like cake. I just would've rather it have been ice-cream that's all I'm sayin'.
The shirt and shorts in the above photo and the shirt and shorts in the cake eating photo above that are sewn from the same pattern. These four articles of clothing comprised my entire summer wardrobe, other than the two dresses I wore for church on Sundays. They were interchangeable, and made of cotton. Comfortable and cute enough. I watched my mother sew them and learned how to pick a pattern, fabric, and notions; pin the pattern onto the fabric, cut out the pieces and how to thread a sewing machine, and stitch the pieces together to create something to wear. I loved how my mother would hold the straight pins in her pursed lips, sliding them out one by one as she'd pin the thin pattern paper onto the fabric. Sometimes she'd hum a little song with her lips holding onto the pins just for fun. I'd pretend to be horrified that she might swallow one and her eyes would twinkle at me, both of us knowing she'd never. I bought a sewing machine a couple of weeks ago. I'm going to sew for my grand-babies. Even if they can find something less expensive and even cuter online, even if they might not like it. Even if. Clothes are just clothes. But moments and memories are irreplaceable.
I have a couple of books on my nightstand. I'm going to commit to the books winning over my pretty new phone every night when I climb into bed. Mind you....they are very boring books, because quite honestly, I will stay up till daylight reading, if it's a page-turner. "Know thyself".
Why oh why can't it be ice cream.
I did go to my Barre fitness class tonight. It took me over a year to go to a class at our new gym in town. That same shy, scared little girl inside (third from the left if you can't tell bubbles up to the surface and I'm nervous to strike up conversations, and meet new people. I am always in a much better mood after moving my body, and also moving my mouth to talk to new people. The most difficult part is putting on my tutu...I mean gym clothes and showing up. The endorphins kick in and I can conquer just about anything, at least for three or four more hours.
There are sixteen candles on this cake. A Sara Lee frozen cake I had to go purchase at the store because no one remembered it was my birthday this particular year. But I did get to go purchase my driver's license for $5 and drive to the store by myself so there's that. I really don't know why I bought a cake, when I would've much rather have had ice cream. I believe there were some tears and crying in this photo. #hormones
My Auntie Juliana, a stewardess for TWA brought this Lederhosen and hat to me after a trip to Germany. I still have it in my baby box. I just think it's a darn cute outfit and a darn happy little girl. You probably won't ever catch me wearing any Lederhosen around town, but you will most certainly find me hanging out in the trees, rocks and dirt. Eating ice cream.
I do have memory of the most incredible cake my Aunt Jan made one year when she had an abundant strawberry harvest from her massive garden. I think I'll dig it up out of my recipe file and make it for Dave's birthday coming up at the end of the month.
Until then, we'll have sourdough biscuits and gravy.
I'll just put a little candle in the top of this bad boy and sing Happy Birthday to myself!
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