It’s surely a sign of old age that you come to your birthday and can’t remember how old you are. And then you have to do math.
Those who don’t know me that well seem to think that I’ve taken this weekend off so that Rob and I can spend Valentines Day together. Those who know me a little better asked me what I want for my birthday. The answer was sleep. And a new phone. My phone has been dying for a long time.
I didn’t get the phone (or much sleep), but I did get a nice cookbook and a game of Star Wars Monopoly from Rob. And I went into town and bought some paint too, because I’m hoping to spend some time this weekend refinishing an old table that I’ve been staring at for a long time.
Well, you know, it’s more fun than mortgage applications.
I recall that the very first year we were together, Rob fretted about getting me a birthday present because he worried that whatever he got wouldn’t be good enough. My answer was simple. “Honey, you’ve remembered my birthday, you haven’t threatened to kill me, and you’re still acknowledging my existence. So you’ve already beaten the last three birthdays and boyfriends I’ve had.”… He’s cute when he worries though.
I also got to spend a little time in the kitchen today, which I guess doesn’t sound like much of a day off but I’ve missed cooking. I made my own short pastry and baked a bacon & egg pie for dinner. Tomorrow I may harvest the first big load of plums and tomatoes and do some preparation for bottling them. Or make plum jam. It’s a lovely, lazy, languid way to spend a sunny weekend, and a much needed break for my brain. Stress and fatigue have become such a way of life lately that it’s hard to remember much of anything at all. I’ve been wandering around all woozy like I have sun stroke.
But there is still this tantalising mirage of a house drawing me forward. A house with a garden and an orchard. Chickens. Cats playing on the patio. Maybe a dog if I’m ever home enough. Let’s face it: I’m pulling myself through the muddy trenches with just that one image in my mind… Somewhere to make our home…
38. I’m 38. This will be the year.