13 again....

Today is my birthday. I am now 31.
My aunt sent me a sweet card, a cute one she had, that was for a 13 year old - 13 :: 31.

I don't know what it's meant to feel like at 31, can't remember 13. So. I'm feeling okay. 31 is sitting nicely in my head - the thought and idea of it. Not freaking me out.
I spent a beautiful afternoon at my sister's house, with some lovely and very dear and special friends. No kids! Did you hear that - NO kids. I didn't want to leave. I could have sat up and chatted all night to those women. And nibbled on the food they all brought, and the bubbly (we can still call it champagne, can't we, even though we all know it's not). And listened to the music. And smelt the roses over and over again. Well, those I can - Sylve gave them to me - David Austin's. So heady and full and sensuous.
And then I headed over to my in-laws; where my mother-in-law had made a beautiful and simply perfect dinner for us. She makes these lovely baked sweet potato (white ones) in long sticks, and they go all caramel-ey. And grilled veges (eggplant, zucchini, capsicum) and adds them to a rocket and feta salad. And of course a special meat (though since I came into their life, I know that she always makes special care and thought to provide me - the vegetarian - with delicious alternatives).

And then a yummy cake. Topped with fresh raspberries.
And Sylve offered fresh raspberries too, on her little chocolate cake treats.
These are quite a delicacy here, and I gobbled their sweet globules of fresh (the ones that Sam didn't eat!).
So, despite the whinge and mess from the kids this morning; a beautiful birthday. And some lovely and thoughtful and just right for me presents. You know when you only get a few presents, but they are right. That's the best, hey!

Left over cake tomorrow. May have to find some friends to share it with; or take the kids on a picnic (if the rain eases for a moment).

:: 31 :: A year of becoming an adult and enjoying things slower, and respecting myself, and taking more time for myself. Of stopping. Of laughing and giggling. And singing and running. And creating. So much creating is bursting out of my seams; eager to evolve into itself.

Sam turned 35; he still is a young man to me - the sweet person who I met and fell in love with all that time ago.