Sixty

I honestly thought I would not make it to my sixtieth birthday, but here I am. It's been 3 1/2 years, give or take, since I found out I had high-risk multiple myeloma, and I feel pretty good. We spent the weekend in Maryland, with Mom, Karen, Aaron, Rosie, and Lee, celebrating Mom's 90th (February 15) and, secondarily, my 60th (February 19). The weather wasn't great, but the company was. We watched some old 8mm movies my father had shot, talked about family members past and present, ate, and talked some more. Mom's doing great, by the way, as are we all.

Coming back home, the weather has been no better. Cold and wet. Sunny was ecstatic to be released from her brief captivity at the vet's, and to celebrate we went on an extended afternoon walk, almost 5 miles, in Turkey Run Park--my favorite among the amazing set of parklands established in the last 10 years along Floyd's Fork, south and east of Louisville but close enough for an impromptu visit.

Although the weather wasn't great, good clothing always moderates the pain. So we dress appropriately.

Sunny didn't really need her jacket today, but I needed mine. Tonight we celebrate with good bourbon, lamb burgers on the grill, sleep. Tomorrow is another day (!).