so long, thirties
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?]
akabini
2 Comments
Reader Comments (2)
Welcome to the top of the hill!
And indeed, when the first digit typed into the gym machines became a 4 I felt a little strange. (Now that it's 4-1, I'm kind of used to it.)
~Joe
They make you type your age and weight in? I guess I'll stick to my Pilates and non-gym cardio.
Comp yarn from Blue Moon definitely counts as making it to the top of the hill before you became over the hill. Bring it to show off tomorrow?