A card, addressed to Tilah, from my great-nephews. Weston hopes I'll like my "raket" makers (chimes).
Two days ago I turned 40. Insert sigh. 40. Not sure I'm liking the sound of that. Other than the number associated with this particular birthday it was a nice day and evening spent with my closest family members. Just my mom and dad (so glad I still have them with me to celebrate), my own family, and my sister's family.
40-year-old eyes sans makeup
Do you find yourself thinking back on past birthdays whenever another one rolls around? I do. Unfortunately, even if I think really hard, I cannot remember them all. I vividly remember my 17th, like it was yesterday, though.
After a short visit we headed back out across the field toward the car, that horrible green Chevrolet Impala I was forced to drive. When we were about half the distance back to the edge of the field we noticed a car coming down the road. It was none other than Kelsey Carver, Wendy's dad. Normally, this might not have been an issue. But, alas, Wendy was with me...in this party of delinquents...at my sleepover...and her daddy knew this. It didn't take long for him to pull over, exit his vehicle, and proceed to cross said field - flashlight in hand. So Wendy and I spent the next several minutes -which seemed like hours - on our bellies crawling as far away as we could while the other girls in the group told at least two versions of a story explaining our absence. We had gone with other friends to Gallatin. No, wait. We were out town at the car wash. Ummm. She loaned us her car. You get the picture. To make their storyline(s) believable the girls reluctantly left us slithering along while they drove off in my car, followed for a while by Kelcey.
Picture of that fun night to come just as soon as I find and scan it.