I love my birthday. In our family the birthday girl or boy was royalty for their day. Every couple of years James and I look for an excuse for a PARTY. Well, it’s usually me looking and James is fine with the whole PARTY idea.
Ten years ago we celebrated my turning 50 with a big PARTY. I also decided to be a blonde. I was curious about how I’d look and what it might be like to be a blonde. It was an experiment where fashion and curiosity intersected. Our friend Sharyl Ramos, who’s been cutting our hair for decades, did the deed. Except the first go ’round my hair was Tweetybird Yellow. Thank God I’m secure. Do you really know what color Tweetybird is? A second go round got me to something approaching platinum. That, I liked, and found I didn’t need to find new clothes to go with my hair.
I enjoyed being a blonde for about a month. Then I enjoyed being a redhead. Why not? My grandmother was supposed to have had auburn hair.
But, I found that my roots came back with a vengeance every couple of weeks and I either had to spend time or money to stay ahead of them. I’m too busy and too cheap to spend money on my hair.
Today I turn 60. I’ve shared with some friends that “there are still pages on the calendar, but I can see the cardboard backing.” There are things I still want to do, but it’s not a bucket list.
I’m comfortable and aware that I sometimes look backward as much as I look forward. Who I’m with matters more than where I’m going. That’s something to celebrate isn’t it? One might even call it a gift.