It is a new year and some may say I'm neither prettier nor smarter, but merely older (you won't hear that from me). Remember, age 52 is the end of the 52nd year, not the beginning! But as I mused before, these B-days are always good days. I don't think or feel old (older, maybe) but I have run into younger people than me who seem older.
The F.O is treating me to dinner at a local red sauce restaurant. To me, anyone can celebrate anything over a heaping plate of linguine covered with sausages or meatballs, and the owner's homemade red wine (tastes a bit like Paisano). And how can you miss on the crushed red pepper flakes and freshly grated cheese on the pasta? I'll even nibble around the edges of the hot peppers on the salad.
Of course, I remember the first time I was treated to a birthday dinner by the lovely Patti was in 1985. The restaurant was then called the Olde Birmingham, housed in the ca. 1870's Birmingham National Bank. Patti reserved one of the tables along the wall with the high backed chairs. And the vault was the red wine cellar. That was the nicest birthday I'd had, and of course, my 30th.
The only difference this year is that Kid1 won't be here but at school. We can celebrate this again after school ends. Call it my 52.25 year old party.