Birthday!

Breakfast of ackee and festival, made by my lovely husband, who tracked down the national dish of Jamaica at a new gourmet market in Harlem. Ackee is outlawed in this country because until it ripens and opens it is poisonous, and I suppose the government doesn't want to take chances with people not knowing how to prepare it safely. My man knows how to cook it up, though, and as we ate we joked about our morning illegal activities. He also rustled up a plate of festival, another Jamaican favorite that is best explained as an island version of cornmeal biscuits or Johnny cakes.

Lazed most of the day, taking phone calls like a woman of leisure or reading, then showering and dressing up sometime in the afternoon. Dinner, also made by my husband, then cake and a shot each of good tequila, our new birthday tradition. A walk to the mailbox and then to the store. Now, we're back in the house, watching the basketball playoffs. A good slow day, no pressure to do anything at all other than what I felt like doing. Warm messages on Facebook and in my email and texts and Whatsapps made me feel remembered and cared about.

My children are both upstate, at school or visiting friends in Ithaca, but they checked in too, my daughter sending texts throughout the day. I colored my hair a different shade. Not sure what I think about it yet, but not really that concerned. I don't feel any older, especially after I realized last night that I have spent the last year thinking I am the age that I am turning today, so I basically missed an entire year. The number sounds so much older than I feel. I think, after age 25 or so, it is always thus. Happy birthday to me.