eb told me so

In a little more than an hour I will turn the clock on forty-eight. Then I'll be looking down the barrel of forty-nine. That time will probably rock me more than this. Maybe. Perhaps. I'm not that bothered by forty-eight and truth be told, don't think I'll be that bothered by forty-nine. I seemed pretty cool about the whole prospect of another birthday, then eb wrote: I was just reading where us older lesbos are all the hot rage these days. Oh yeah, sexxxy.
My mom gave me that card you see above there. For the third year running, she's given me that same card. She has giggled and beamed each time, "I love that card!" Which if you really knew my mom you'd find fantastically ironic. Never-the-less, I agree...it is indeed how you are old. In keeping with that sentiment and eb's news I've decided to take my sexily banded, soon to be forty-eight year old knees walking and riding over the better part of two, three (or more

towns over the next few days to celebrate my day(s). Yes, turning 48 requires more than a single day. I'm going to play tourist of sorts, see and do things that I don't normally have time to do when I'm working. There will also be separate celebratory meals with daughter, son & mom and even a 50th wedding anniversary family party. Yum!

If there is a lamentable fact about turning 48, it is that Neta isn't here to celebrate with me, us. To borrow a phrase, soon forever. I can't wait until when next we meet, sweetheart. Love to you m'dear.