Look at the way my skin is crumpled, wrinkled, folded, soft. This is sixty.
I am not going to fight or resent it any more. Well, maybe.
I am going to say, "Shitfire. I made it to sixty. Everything else is gravy."
Lily and Jason, kissing.
The best thing that could ever happen to my grandchildren is that their parents love each other. And show it.
Yesterday Mr. Moon and I were kissing on the bed when Owen was lying next to us, watching something on my iPad and Gibson was right there too.
"That's making out, " said Owen. He could have cared less. He sees affection and love all the time.
A picture that Jessie sent me today.
Yeah. We kiss a lot in this family.
I've had the best day. I went to lunch with Hank at Fanny's. May had our table all set up with a huge bouquet of gladiolas. We spent hours eating and visiting with May and Michael and Taylor, telling stories and laughing. Hank gave me two beautiful bowls that our friend Joanna Winters made.
I brought them home and filled them with with eggs from the day's clutch and Maurice wanted to pose with them. There ain't nothing I love more than a beautiful bowl.
I put the gladiolas in a vase on the vanity in the hallway.
Is that a glory or what?
I talked to Lis this afternoon. We laughed at how once again we are going to get in a car and drive away together. I told her how Billy asked if we were going to be gay hipsters in Asheville and Lis said, "Yes! We are going to hold hands and kiss on the lips in public!"
We discussed wardrobe options and so forth. I told her that for my birthday I am thinking about wearing my silk velvet red skirt, my red sequined, beaded, fringed tunic jacket that Kathleen gave me and my Keith Richards for President shirt that Ms. Bastard Beloved sent me.
She said, "Perfect! And let's talk about jewels!"
This may be one of the best birthdays of my life, if not the best.