I'm sorry to have forgotten to post this but today is my fucking birthday. And if I transpose the numbers, I'm 26. And I look every inch of 26, let me tell ya.
We went to Whidbey Island where there is a magic dog beach (where we met a puppy almost the same age as Felix) and we threw the ball about a million times and Felix fell around and lept into the air and generally made a fool of himself. Puppies are effing funny. They're us when we DIDN'T CARE that we were goofballs with dirt and sand on our faces when we fell backwards onto the beach. The sun was shining, it was freezing and there was a bit of snow. The nice people with Oscar (the odd couple) told us to go to Gordon's on Blueberry Hill for dinner so we did and it was a beautiful sunset over a wee Puget Sound bay with wine and salad and chocolate decadence with a candle in it.
It was a perfect day and I'm grateful for my children and Milo and my whole family and my honey and everyone else who loves me. I had two glasses of wine and I can't feel my toes and I don't care.