I am a secret birthday freak. I hate that stupid song, and I don’t want to blow out candles.
But I do love a small, perfect day.
Some who follow me and my life, and who follow myself and Ron, our life together, have heard me talk a lot about expecting nothing but the best. That you have to believe that you are enough, alone. And that anyone you accept into your life has to be extraordinary and must make your life more extraordinary than it was without them.
This was my birthday present from my extraordinary man.
My morning mist
My evening list
My boyhood fancy
My nervous antsy
My novel without end
My longtime girlfriend
My glass of sherry
My beautiful Terry