Another Year Older


So it's my birthday today. How did I get so old? I must ask myself this every year, but it's true. I don't feel old, until I watch things like the Olympics and realize most of the athletes are the same age as kids I used to babysit in high school. Recently I learned I'm two months older than Jon Hamm from Mad Men, whose birthday is in March. Sigh.


Speaking of Jon Hamm/Donald Draper ...














Thanks to Netflix and various clips on Jezebel I've become thoroughly addicted to Mad Men. But that's another post.

Here is the book I'm currently reading for book group, and since it's based on a true story of the husband and wife who operated the zoo in Warsaw at the time World War II began I'm expecting it to be an excellent read.

I've been in my current book group for over a year. I joined an existing group of women who've known each other for years and host each meeting with lovely homecooked meals and plentiful bottles of wine. From time to time friends with older daughters bring their girls' hand-me-downs to share, which has resulted in some new playclothes for Anna's wardrobe. I'm scheduled to host in April and have been assured that if I don't feel like cooking it's quite acceptable to just order pizzas, so I have a feeling that may be what I do this time around.

What will year 39 bring? So far, we've planned a trip to Disney World for March, and Edwin is planning a solo trip to Holland at the end of June. I'm not sure if I'll be taking any other trips, I still haven't been to Annapolis for work and wouldn't likely go too far in the summer months. So we'll see.

I've been running again, mostly on the treadmill at the YMCA. I'm quite spoiled in that I go during quiet times and spend an entire hour on the machine. All of their machines have televisions built into them which helps fill the time immensely, and keep my mind off the aches and pains. My clothes are fitting better and I'm hopeful that by spring I won't be embarrassed to break out the shorts and skirts.

More another time.

The Road Not Taken
by Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.