Happy Birthday Ann!

Happy Birthday to Ann!


I am so lucky to have her for a friend.

Yeah, Happy Birthday, Ann. Now comes the last part of the song: "Stand up and tell us how old you are."
Oh, don't bother unless you are like me and proud to have made it so far.

Thank you, Alice. I'm lucky you're my friend, too.

Dick, I am proud to be 66 years old. I've earned them all; enjoyed the good and made use of the bad.

Ann

Happy Birthday Ann!!!

I may be a day late, but hope your day was/is extra special.

on being 21 again.

Happy birthday Ann. I bet you don't feel but a day older than yesterday.

Dear Ann,
There is a freedom at 66 that is just the beginning. I am 66. I consider it a milestone, an important door to the future. It is not that I do not have to work any more to keep myself such, but I look upon it a little differently, and take things not so seriously dire as I did 30 years ago. I float a little easier now. I am not as heavy in spirit. My teeth have unclenched. I snore better. I dream better dreams. I consider at times if I were to take a big leap, I could fly at least above the telephone lines. Perhaps that is the buzzard in me, but I take it and I know I could ride the wind.

Happy birth day to you, my friend.

Love,
Betty

Happy birthday, Ann. You look 35 in your photo. And your words are always young at heart.

Malcolm

Thank you everyone. Sixty-five was harder than I had expected it would be. I found myself facing the concept of mortality for the first time. I was officially a senior citizen. That first year is over now, and I feel like I've reached the other side of a very tall hill. Like Betty, I have unclenched my teeth. I'm ready for whatever else happens to come around.

Ann

Betty sure summed up growing older beautifully. She has a unique way with words.

Dear Dick,
When I was small, old people smelled like moth balls. It was years and years before I actually smelled a moth ball up close, but when I did, old people popped into my brain. A kind of cadaver smell, preserved, and holding.

Funny how the mind is.

There was a time that Old Spice was the thing that men wore to smell wonderful. Then came English Leather, all the Musk stuff, and now the body soaps.

Smells are a sharp memory.

I remember the Fabrege stuff, Tigress, Emmarude. God knows how to spell that, now.

The other night I was trying to remember Emarude and all I could think of was Evenrude. Close but not the same cigar.

Well, maybe close.

It such a conglomerate of experience that makes us this person that has lived this long and still going on, still smiling and writing.

I wrote some stuff when I was so young, but it was a nothing compared to where I have been. The going forth is the important thing. Blab out the life and give it your heart.

Love,
Betty

Happy birthday Ann. I Hope your birthday wishes come true.

Dear MJ,
You do not let much of your self out here on this board. It is hard to know you at all.

Tell us some.

Love,
Betty

Late, but no less sincere. The world became a better place the day you were born and the best is yet to come. Hope your birthday was a very special day.

For Betty: Émeraude (1921)
by Coty

It's still available though the fragrance is slightly reworked; no longer considered with the same esteem, it is found at Wal Mart. My mother used the perfume from a pretty glass bottle that had a glass stick about the size of a q-tip with which she applied a dab on each wrist.

I had some Emeraude lotion with sparkles in it that I slathered with before dates. Allergic to perfume today, I pity those poor boys - I'm sure I overdid it!

Dear DK,
You see how perfume dates a person. I longed for Evening In Paris because it was in a little blue bottle in the Five and Dime somewhere in the end of the 1940's. Carol Troestler sent me a bottle half full of that. What kindness on her part. It smells like Jergens lotions.

When I went to Arizona State, all those strong smelling perfumes were in fashion. Well, so was incense. I do not think we were extra specially smelly, but it was the day of the fashion perfume and the exotic smells that did not come from the farm or the flowers.

Those were the days when most men smelled like cigars and Old Spice with a dash of Scotch mixed in. Worldly stuff to a kid from Casa Grande, Arizona. They sat on benches in front of the drug store which was right before the movie theater.

The desert has it's own smell. If someone could bottle the smell of the Mohave desert, at night, and put in the stars, well, they would make a lot of money. Meaquite without the smoke. Palo Verde leaves, no hoopla.

Love, Betty

Excuse me for bringing up an old thread, but my birthday celebration happened today. My daughters picked me up about mid-afternoon, and took me to The Painted Plate:

http://www.paintedplatestudio.com/

I had thought, from their description, that we would actually be shaping the pottery, but this was even more fun. We chose what item we wanted, started with a plain, unfired piece, and painted it ourselves, however we wished, in whatever colors. The shop will glaze and fire them over the next few days; my oldest daughter, who works nearby, will pick them up, later this week. By next Sunday, my poblano pepper shaped salsa bowl, which I painted a bright red, with a pale yellow interior and a deep green stem, will be ready to hold the salsa for our hors d'oeuvres before dinner.

My sons-in-law met us afterward and we had a delicious tapas dinner. While we were in the restaurant parking lot, we watched a family of deer cross an open field just below us. I thought I caught a picture of them with my phone, but it isn't there. Oh, well, I was going to show Marie that we sometimes had them, too.

It has been a delightful day.

Ann

Ok I've done it again I've missed another celebration.
I have cleared it with the Ministry of Celebrations

So that you too can have an extra day Anne.
Lets party on lady.
Happy Birthday