Another Birthday

I turned 38 this past Thursday. When I was in college, I thought 38 sounded so old. It's not sounding so old anymore. The day started with a chorus of "Happy Birthdays" and our traditional dance to the Beatles "Birthday" song. Grace said, "You're almost 40, Mommy!" (Thanks, Grace.) Paul handed me five crinkled hard-earned dollar bills that he'd received from doing extra chores. Isn't he the sweetest boy? Grace gave me the Duggar's book Twenty and Counting and Elizabeth gave me Rachael Ray's Big Orange Book. The last few years, I've been in a cooking rut. I requested the cookbook for my birthday as my cooking repertoire has narrowed to what can be made in one hour or less and I know the book will fit the bill nicely.
I got a midday surprise when my aunt and uncle dropped by the house. They were down here for a farming conference and decided to come by and wish me "Happy Birthday." They gave me a big vase filled with tulip bulbs that will bloom in a few weeks--a little spring in the dead of winter. The day ended with a dinner out with Matt and a trip to Walmart for groceries. When we returned home, we all had cake and ice cream. Grace made her first Texas Sheet Cake for the occasion. She's the fourth generation in our family to make the cake. I snuggled up in bed that night surrounded by my Christmas and birthday books. I'm reading them all at once, something my mother used to do. I always thought that was so weird, but here I am doing the same thing. I guess it's true what they say that you turn into your parents as you age.

(Someone recently commented on the blog about the origin of the ditty "There was a bee who lived in a barn." All I know is that my German grandfather always said it to us kids.)