Yeah, I had another birthday.
Of course I did. Had I not, I wouldn’t be able to type. That’s neither here nor there. Let’s talk about celebrations.
I’m not opposed to making a fuss. Your Auntie is neither modest nor self-effacing, as the mere fact of having a blog attests.
But to celebrate, or not to celebrate? That is the question.
As I explained to a charming young friend of ours; when you do anything fifty-two times in a row (yes even that) the fifty-third time isn’t going to be noteworthy. It can be good, but it probably won’t be noteworthy.
Besides, Auntie is lazy and celebrating properly is a lot of effort. Still, even the laziest human slug can manage an unhealthy level of self-indulgence.
In my case, that involved consuming heart-throttling amounts of fat, sugar and salt.
Happy sigh.
It was a celebration of a sort. I got a tip about a doughnut place that makes blueberry doughnuts even superior to the formerly nonpareil blueberry doughnuts in Victorville.
That’s where we went, and my oh my, it turned out to be true. Heaven!
The bad news is that this angelic new-to-me doughnut place is five minutes away from where we live and I only allow myself those kinds of treats at significant annual intervals. Now whenever I go through that intersection, which I do semi-daily, I will yearn tragically.
Sigh-y sigh.
Oh well. Happy birthday to me.
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