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Okay, so I was wrong yesterday when I said it was my last entry before vacation...
Happy birthday to me...
When I was little, we spent every Labor Day weekend in Conway, at my grandparents' summer place. I spent most of the summer up there anyway, and my parents would come up off and on, but that weekend we would always be there together, Nana, Papa, Mom, Dad and me. It was my birthday weekend, and I loved celebrating it up there.
Most years, my mom and grandmother would wake me up with breakfast in bed--usually a BLT (my favorite non-breakfast breakfast food) and home fries. Nana and I would make the cake together in the old oven downstairs with the door that needed to be wired shut. We were never sure what the exact temperature in that oven was, but it baked wonderfully!
Later in the afternoon, we'd sit out at the picnic table and eat steamers and corn and I would open my birthday presents. There was always a new lunch box in the mix.
The day would end down by the "Flinstone," the stone fireplace Papa had built right at the water's edge. We'd toast marshmallows and make s'mores, and maybe take a brave and quick late-night swim.
I woke up this morning and thought about my birthday. I miss my grandparents. I miss my dad. I will never spend another birthday on the lake.
But today, as soon as I get off line, I'm going to meet my mom. We're driving to Pickity Place for lunch. Tonight, 'll pick up the Boyfriend and we'll have dinner at my favorite JP restaurant. Tomorrow morning, we're off to Disney.
Times change. But that doesn't mean they're bad.
So yeah, happy birthday to me.
Thanks, Nana and Papa, for all those good years.
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