May 3 was my birthday

I'm finding that my word smithing work steals my mojo for other writing, so that I tell you all my news in my head, but can't seem to get any words onto the page here. But yes, I had a birthday. 

I spent the day roaming with my beautiful daughter. We went to the at the movies (The Devil Wears Prada 2—we have a cute history with the original installment from her growing up years) and then lunch at our fave spot, and then home to plan a refresh of her former bedroom, browsing online to choose a rug and paint colors, drawing different furniture arrangements, taking measurements, with the two of us intermittently flopping side by side onto the bed to debrief on life things, laughing, being completely in the flow, and it was just a divine time. 

She had been at a friend's bachelorette party in New England since Thursday, one of The Six (friends since elementary school) is getting married this summer, while another of their number will have a baby in the fall, so she was feeling all filled up with the beauty and complexity and serendipity of love and life. She came straight here from her train ride back from New England with her suitcase in tow to spend the day with me. She went home to her husband later that evening. My own husband was around all day, but he graciously stayed in the background reading, knowing unstructured time spent with my girl was my birthday gift this year, and it was the sweetest.

The nieces and my son in law are coming over tomorrow night for a Survivor watch party and to cut cake with me, so we'll do my actual birthday celebration then. My son and his wife won't be here. She has to teach a class and he just went back to work from medical leave. His got burned on the job, flames swooped over his ears—yes, I know!—and he was off for four to eight weeks as he healed. He healed very fast thank heavens, four weeks in you couldn't tell he'd been burned, his ears looked completely back to normal, and he was cleared to return to duty. But since he just got back, it's too soon to be asking folks to switch shifts with him. He says he and his love will do something else to celebrate with me when he's free. Meanwhile my girl stuck two candles in a Jamaican plantain tart and she and her dad sang me happy birthday. I'm wearing the amethyst earring my man gave me as a gift. He knows I love my mother's birth stone.

As I type, two men are in the back room of my house pulling up the grody carpet and patching up the walls in preparation to paint and lay floors in there. And then it will be just my bedroom left to refresh in this years-long redo of my home, which I contemplated for more than a decade before finally getting started with the kitchen in 2022. Four years later, I'm closing in on the finish line. I feel completely overmatched when I consider taking on our bedroom, but this is a conundrum for another day.

I also meant to post about the man and I going to the New York Botanical Gardens Orchid Show a couple weeks ago. I walked and walked with no issues at all. At one point we came to some stairs and from force of habit my husband said, "The ramp is over there—oh, you're up the stairs already!" And I was. I use my cane for stairs because I still have bum knees, but with the cane, they don't hurt at all going up, and I can lead off strongly with my newly fixed left leg, too. This counts as big excitement for me nowadays. Here are some pictures, and look, I made a post!