Sixty.

Sixty. Six Oh. 6-0. Sixty is a speed limit. As of yesterday, it's also my age. Ouch. Oh well.... it is what it is.

My cousins called me yesterday to tell me how old I was... (as if I didn't remember?) My cousin R wanted to know what it felt like, because she will also be 60 in a few months. My cousin T in Arizona told me that I'm catching up to him. I told him that he will always be older than me. He told me that I will always be older than his younger brother D. Details... details....

The Day has come and gone.... and it was a good one, regardless of the numbers. On Saturday, my husband and I drove to College Station and spent the day walking around stores (I bought a bright red tea kettle to match my bright red KitchenAid mixer) and we had lunch up there. My husband also surprised me with a three-layer carrot cake, home made from a local bakery that supplies cakes to some of Houston's best restaurants. The carrot cake was delicious... better than what I can make, and certainly better than anything we can buy locally.

Yesterday, we had lunch with J&J at our favorite Mexican restaurant.... shrimp enchiladas for all.... and they surprised me with a chocolate cake in the shape of an "L," my initial. Covered in chocolate frosting and sliced strawberries, with one happy little red candle on top of it. (How thoughtful not to have 60 candles on that cake.... not a good thing.... our hundred-year-old house is not built of brick and who knows how long it could take to blow out 60 candles.) Later on yesterday afternoon, J stopped by with yet another birthday surprise... chocolate cake with chocolate fudge frosting.... singing Happy Birthday when I opened the door. (Isn't it a rule that calories don't count on your birthday?)

It was a Happy Birthday weekend... surprises around every little corner-- literally, because my husband got me at least two dozen birthday cards and had them hidden all over the house. One of them was on top of the door to my sitting room, and it dropped down with a hissing snake-sort of sound that scared me to pieces.... I told him he can hide all the cards he wants, but please not on top of doors.

When my cousin T called, we got to talking about the chickens and their little vacation from egg-laying. T suggested I contact a 'chicken whisperer' to see what's bothering the chickens. I laughed at his joke, but tonight when I went out to lock up the coop, there was Scarlett at the back steps, waiting for me. I walked down the steps of the porch, she walked over to me and plopped herself by my feet. I picked her up and all the way from the porch to the coop, I was talking to her and telling her how much we have missed her pretty brown eggs.... and couldn't she surprise us with some eggs in the nesting boxes sometime soon? Before I put her Royal Henness on the roosting bar, I brought her over to the nesting boxes so she could have a little look-see inside.... and I said to her "Remember that favorite nesting box of yours? It's still there, and waiting just for your cute little red-feathered butt to lay an egg in it."

Oh well... chickens that no longer lay eggs... and me, no longer 59. I am now officially a speed limit. I can hear my husband's mother whispering to me.... "Honey, I will trade numbers with you any time....." -- which is what she said to me when I turned 50 and I told her that I had been very comfortable with the number 49.

Sixty. Ouch. Still an ouch. But I'm here... and happy and healthy... and still busy painting the upstairs rooms, one wall at a time (two rooms are already finished)... and I hope to be like my Aunt Dolly who is still going and going and going and going at the over-the-speed-limit age of 98.