They Say It's Your Birthday...

I spent an inordinate amount of time this afternoon, before going off to a good-bye party for someone else, trying to upload a picture of me on my seventh birthday, exactly twelve years ago tonight.

Having failed at that, I offer some every decade reflections:

I don't remember my 5th birthday.

I spent my 15th birthday having dinner with my beloved grandmother in a rooftop garden restaurant in Florence. She bought me a pair of antique gold earrings in Grenada which I still wear all the time.

On my 25th birthday, I was an intern in a law firm. A couple of the guys took me out after work. I'm afraid that I drank a little too much.

I suppose that I can be forgiven for remembering nothing of my 35th birthday ~ hardly surprising, since I had three children three and under.

I don't remember 45 either -- but I know that I was practicing family law and my children were 10, 13, and 13. That age span probably means that they were all off at camp in North Carolina.

And now . . . well, from here, 55 looks pretty damn good.

Let's see if I can find a photo somewhere of Florence. Hey ~ Brunelleschi Hotel sounds good to me! Gonna have a good time ...!