Something happened on my birthday in July. This year I threw myself a party. You know you can do that don’t you? Don’t wait for someone to throw you one…do it yourself and be fab!
It was a magical midsummer night’s eve. An adult version of a kids’ party: a long table studded with flowers in tiny vases, flickering votives, sequins tossed about, streamers winding in amongst the flowers and candles, games with prizes and party favors. Gourmet pizza and fine Italian wine. A spell was cast. [Read more…]
To know how to grow old is the master-work of wisdom, and one of the most difficult chapters in the great art of living. — Henri-Frederic Amiel
Like all children, I looked forward to my birthday. It meant a party, cake, gifts. I was one year closer to some milestone of maturity and freedom. To five and to kindergarten, to 6 and first grade, to 10, the double digits, to 16, to 17, to 18, to 20, then 21, then 25. At 30 begins the, oh dear.