akabini

Happy birthday, S.i.L. Mooseknits / alce !

Drop by her blog and say hey. 

You know, the whole 40 thing is not such a big deal-
life is just as sweet this week as it was last.

But some things just creep up on a gal,
and when they do?
You know you're in midlife when...

• mutual funds are interesting.
• you know what a mutual fund is.
• your child/stepchild and your parents are both sprightly and independent (lucky one, that!)
• you've used the word 'amortization' with a straight face.
• you keep up with mortgage rates - just in case you might want to re-fi.
• you heart thrills when someone calls you 'Miss...'
• your friends' children start to knit.
• you seriously consider taking glucosamine - you know, for those joints that ache. Sometimes.
• 'Massage' (or 'Therapy') is a line item in your monthly budget.
• you're on your third car as a grown-up.

And oh, there are so many more...
Anyone?
Feel free to chime in in the comments.

[And yes, I know how spectacularly lucky I am with the whole parent/stepchild thing. Trust me. They're fabulous, and doing fine.] 

When I turned 30, I:

• had just moved to this small town
• had more long-distance friends than local ones
• was happy when I knew one face while running errands around town
• was working on a book, but struggling with it
• read the KnitList every day, but didn't prowl the local yarn store
• had just bought my first house, but hadn't a clue how to tackle my 1/4-acre garden.

Ten years later, I:

•  can't run errands in a timely fashion because I run into too many people that I know and love each place I stop
• still have many of those great long-distance friends
• have true-blue, wish-I-could-see-them-more-often friends in the knitting world both locally and abroad
• have made over virtually every surface in this house, and built a lovely addition which houses a dear friend of ours
• have lost 30 pounds and kept them off
• run a triathalon (albeit a short one)
• started my pattern business and in the process, discovered my dream job
• have married the most fabulous man there ever was – in an ensemble entirely hand-knit by yours truly
• adopted the Best Dog Ever
• can run 4 miles!
• and here is the garden now (in no small part thanks to Mom's herculean efforts before the wedding):

If you're reading this, you've been a part of this magnificent last decade-
Thank you for making it so great.

And now, there shall be cake! 

Tell you what, the last day of my thirties has been grand.

It was a lovely drive back up from Cannon Beach.

(Spring! Actual spring! Temperatures in -gasp- the seventies! (that's 18+C, for you metric folk north and east of us).

We even found one young sprite sunbathing.... in front of the Blue Moon barn.
So, as further proof of just how spectacular and amazing my life has become, Tina (a.k.a. "the Yarn Dealer") pressed several skeins of lovely stuff in my hands "to see what you think it can do."

Yarn.
To play with.
Like, for my actual job 'n sh*t.

Amazing.

So ta-ra, thirties, you've been good to me.
When I step onto the Stairmaster at the gym tomorrow (and yes, I sure as hell am going to the gym tomorrow, after the champagne and treat-filled weekend I've just had), I'll type in my weight and then:

4.
0.

See you there.

[* Hat courtesty of Peet's coffee, the kind folks who make sure I can get out of bed every morning, and who have done so since I was ... oh ... sixteen?] 

B is for Beach:

B is for Boys:

(in Bliss.)

B is for Beach Walk:

... and B is twice-over for Birthday Bling!:

[Thanks, my Boy. You know how to make a girl feel special.]

[Even if she's blogging with you sitting right there, reading over her shoulder.]

Greetings from Cannon Beach, everyone!