When we were in DC Easter week, an April snow fell all over the cherry blossom blooms and emerging azaleas. This is Silas in his first snow.
Last Tuesday I turned 30.
To wear this new age beginning with 3 feels surprisingly refreshing -- a gust of wind, almost cleansing. My Mom said it well: as you grow up, whims and dreams and likings change, emerge, fade, but what stays the same is your core, who you really are. As you get older, you come to know this core more and more and settle into your real, solid self.
This is how I feel, settling. It is relaxing, assuring.
This is a picture from my birthday party that Ben threw for me-- a circle of women (and two men) around a wooden table outside in half-sun, eating cupcake roses and telling stories. How blessed I am to have them fill my life.
30 and 1 walking in Newport.
A small bandito.
And lastly, Fat Kitchen. It turns out, just as I suspected, that she has been feasting at various houses around the complex. On Friday, I officially gave her to a neighboring house. (She has scratched Silas on the face three times and once on the arm -- seems to me like enough. 10 minutes after the last swipe, however, Silas, with a big red scratch across the face, leaned over and kissed her picture on my "cat needs a home" poster -- oh to be as forgiving as a baby!).
It was a tearful goodbye as Fat Kitchen trotted after the heels of her new owners and they carried away my yellow cat food bowl. She has been a trusty friend these 4 years. The gloom settled around me in the living room -- an era over. Since we parted ways last Friday, though, I have found her on my doorstep each time I have left the house or come home. SO... it looks like our goodbye will be gradual after all.
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