Stroll through a Birthday

I set my alarm to sound early this morning--I didn't want to miss even one minute of my birthday. I absolutely love celebrating this day. As much as I don't like math, we've given some serious thought today to numbers; could that be called math?

The first birthday Mr. Fun celebrated with me was my 16th. We spent the past 45 years together, so doing the math will reveal that today I've got the same numbers in my birthday; they've changed order slightly. I've never had a problem with admitting my age. This birthday, however, sounds old.

So all day I've just rearranged the order of the numbers and have continually told Mr. Fun that I'm 16 today. He's such a sport; he never refuted my claim. What I know is that getting older is a privilege that many people never get to experience.

In my lifetime I've had three, maybe four, very close friends. One of my best friends ever, Jeanne Cooper, died from cancer when she was 48 and I was 38 (I still miss her). My mom died from cancer when she was 57. Michael, Mr. Fun's best friend, died in an auto accident when he was 23, so getting older is quite a privilege.

We started the day's journey by driving east to the Mission Inn in Riverside for a scrumptious breakfast in the outdoor courtyard in the center of the hotel complex. The place is wrapped in fantasy and wonder and especially this time of year as they are getting ready to flip the switch and turn on over a million lights for the Christmas season (and it all begins the night after Thanksgiving--Nov. 26).

After strolling through some of the quaint shops in Riverside -- Simple Simon's bakery to purchase a half-dozen Christmas cookies (undescribable--can only be purchased there) then a quick stop at an inexpensive tailor shop because we both have pants that need to be taken in (because we are still dieting).

Then we drove toward home -- made a quick stop, grabbed a jacket, and continued west to the coast -- Laguna Beach to be exact. We stopped in the Laguna bakery for a cup of fresh brewed coffee while signing about a dozen birthday cards for my older sis, my only sis, whose birthday is two days from now. I had found some truly cute cards all with puppy dogs--my sis owns and operates a K9 Kamp in her home in Portland, Oregon. She loves animals, and finds them much easier to get along with than husbands, parents, or even little a sister (I'm being facetious--sort of). We put all of those cards in one big envelope and walked to the post office to mail that package.

We then walked to the shoreline. I turned to Mr. Fun and said, "Excuse me while I walk right to the water's edge. I've got to get some foam." Photos are still tumbling from my camera as I write, so I'm not sure what I've captured today, but the foam was thick and full-bodied and a couple times it almost tickled the toes of my shoes, but not quite.

Quietly, I crept back toward Mr. Fun, who was sitting on a bench on the boardwalk, I snuck a couple of photos of him. Then together we sat there watching the sun slip behind Santa Catalina Island. The breeze increased while the temperature decreased and my hands were so cold.

When the sun was gone, we walked across Pacific Coast Highway to a new little bar & grill that has a view of the ocean. We had a salad and garlic bread, along with a beverage. Then paid our bill and walked to Salerno's, our favorite Italian restaurant. I ordered angel hair pasta with olive oil & garlic sauce. He had meat sauce over penne. The waitress put a candle in a slice of spumoni ice cream (my favorite) to acknowledge my birthday.

After dinner we walked toward our car and stopped in the public library for a moment, then drove east through the darkness to home . . . to find birthday cards and a present on our front porch and in our mailbox. The last thing I do on my birthday is open all my cards. I love opening them. They are always the frosting on my day; I even found one in my campus mailbox yesterday from a former student. So opening cards is next.

Several days ago I thought this birthday might just be a dud -- my age and all -- but it has been anything but that. November 17th is just one terrific day in my book. And I haven't even had a chance to look at Blipfoto today, but I'm going to now . . . to wish all of YOU a happy day on my birthday!

Good night from Southern California.
Rosie (& Mr. Fun), aka Carol

P.S. I am resisting the intense urge to create a collage of many of today's photos. I'll settle for just this one because it symbolizes the two of us as we have walked the water's edge at Laguna Beach many of the days of our lives . . . Mr. Fun in his baggies and me in my bikini (those days are long gone).