Tuesday, July 29, 2014
I Am Old As Dirt, I Am Young As A Maid In A Field Of Elderflowers
I'm sitting on the porch of this incredibly beautiful little apartment in Asheville with the flowers and herbs in the yard with Lis and with Liz and it's so cool that we sort of need sweaters and it's been the most beautiful day.
Really, it's been just pure magic, all day, driving up through Georgia with the fields of cotton and sunflowers and pecan trees and pine trees and that magnolia nursery and we stopped in Omega, Georgia at Jesus y Maria taqueria for our lunch and at Jittery Joe's in Athens for afternoon coffee and when we got to Asheville, Jessie had decorated the apartment with flowers from Mr. Moon and flowers that she'd bought and there were incredible cheeses and breads and bread and crackers and fruit and liquor and tomatoes and oh, god. I don't even know.
And a chocolate cake the SIZE OF THE PARTHENON!
And Liz Sparks came over and we all met Vergil for supper and it was delicious and now here we are on the porch of this beautiful apartment, Liz and Lis and I, sipping the most delicious cocktails of vodka, tonic and St. Germaine (why did I have to be sixty years old to discover St. Germaine?) and telling stories.
All day I've been saying, "Now that I'm sixty I'm just going to..."
And then I'll say things like, "Flirt shamelessly with incredibly inappropriately young counter guys."
"Are you writing these down?" I asked Lis at one point.
"I should be," she said.
Oh Lord. I just realized. I'm sixty and one day old. It's like one in the morning!
It's good. It's real good.
And if I could possibly tell all of you who left me birthday messages today what they meant to me, I'd be here all night long. Let me just say that I've cried more than once today, reading them.
I am the richest woman on earth.
I am happy. So very, very happy.
Thank all of you. From the very bottom of my sixty-year old heart to the very top of my ageless soul.