Fifty six

Today I wore this little pin on my sweater. Yes, it's a birthday cake. I bought a handful of them a few years ago when my high school gang reunited, and suggested we could each wear ours on our birthday and think of the ol' group. So, ORR ladies, if you're reading this: I thought of you today, and I want to give you a huge hug and a big kiss. May we gather again this coming year.

Nice stuff: My co-workers surprised me with a delicious chocolate layer cake yesterday afternoon and an odd, counterpointal (is that a word? my spellcheck thinks not) rendition of "HBTY" in several different keys. I love my peeps.

Nice stuff, part 2: Peter bounded into my office this morning with a cute flowered box chock-full of Bath & Body Works scented goodies, from hand cream to lip gloss to hand soap and body wash. I will have no excuse for being anything but fragrant as a dewy young flower. (TY, bb!)

More nice stuff: The physical therapists at my noon knee-torturing session gave me a gray T-shirt with a funny cartoon face looking agonized, and the words "Got pain?"

I received lots of cards, both e- and snail. Thank you, everyone. I can't lie: I love the attention.

The best part: Going for my mammogram today and being stopped at the inner door after the tech called my first name. "No, I need Anne D_____," she said, glancing at my intake sheet and then peering past me at the other women in the waiting area. "That's me," I assured her. Double-take. "Oh! I never would have taken you for 56 years old! You look so much younger." I really love that woman.

Not so nice stuff: This gasoline bill. Damn, I hate it when the total is over $50.



Per gallon, gas is up to $3.05 today and sure to rise some more. I need to start taking the bus, and intend to when the aforementioned knee will tolerate my walking to and from various stops.

Happy endings chez nous: Mexican pizza from Picasso's, then our favorite lemon mousse cake from Pastiche. Last course: a glass of crisp white wine and a snuggle with my fellow-Scorpio hubby - who, by the way, dislikes having his picture taken. Bet you couldn't tell.



I can smile for both of us. As for turning 56: as long as the "6" isn't the first numeral, I'm fine. Check back in four years.