On Sunday, I turned 37 years old. I had a pretty mellow birthday. Chris let me sleep in, while making me bacon. I made cupcakes and Bren and I ate our good share of chocolate icing with sprinkles. Then Chris took my birthday portrait (pictured left). We had a nice dinner the night before plus a little wine. And we played Yahtzee. All in all, very nice and I could want nothing more. Our lives are so blessed and full. I’m a lucky woman.
I was thinking this morning, where will we be when I’m 40. Then I took a mental pause, redirected, and decided to ask myself where do I want to be when I’m 40?
New York is an adventure and I love my job. But long term, I want to walk in the woods on a daily basis. I want to grow things. I want Bren to get dirt under his nails and smell like sunshine. I want to eat out side by the light of campfire and fireflies.
Skyscrapers sure are pretty, but there is something in the country that I just can’t leave. I don’t really want to change the course of my career. But I would like to find a way to translate what I am good at into a role that doesn’t require city life. I’m not sure exactly what that is just yet, but this is what I’m thinking about right now.
By 40, I’d like for us to have our own little plot somewhere way out back and beyond. Where we can plant the seeds of our dreams and watch them bloom.
P.S. Facebook has reinvented birthdays. On Sunday, I woke up with a little giddy anticipation to see who’d left birthday wishes on my wall. A few years ago, that’s not something that would have occurred to me. Thanks to all my Facebook friends, birthdays are like social media Christmas mornings.