It was one of those birthdays, you know the kind. The ones that mark a decade or a half-decade or, in my case, the arrival of a new status at a half-decade. I'm now officially a senior and will look forward to whatever perks go with the title. But, it's a weird feeling. On Tuesday, I was officially young, or at least not classed as old; now I'm in a new category. Perhaps the fact that my youngest grandson's voice dropped overnight and he now sounds like a man should have given me a clue, but it didn't.
When a male friend who is three months younger than me called to wish me a happy birthday and ask me how it felt to be officially old (he enjoyed saying that), I said, I didn't know yet. And that's still true today.
I spent the day itself doing whatever came to mind and ignoring my chores. I had a healthy breakfast, chocolate mousse cake for brunch and potato chips for supper. Because, well, because I felt like it. Maybe I needed a small rebellious moment. I also finished reading a mystery and fooled around on the internet.
There's birthday loot of course. I have a brand new pair of walking shoes thanks to the marvellous Viking and a framed photograph of the Port Elgin lighthouse from my daughter. Today is just a regular day so I suppose I shall have to return to the land of responsibiities. Maybe I'll do that after lunch.