For my thirtieth birthday, we filled a string of tables with a dozen of my good friends and family. It was exactly how I wanted to spend the evening.
I had chocolate cake. Kelly took a photo of me blowing out the candles. Angie requested I post the picture. Sigh.
We went to the Happy Gnome after, which has the largest tap selection I've ever seen. Tasting Crispin was tempting, but I opted out, realizing just how my stomach would reject any more than a taste of alcohol.
At the Happy Gnome, Colleen C asked me what my top five goals for my thirties were. On the spot, here they are:
1. To get a book published. (I asked: "Is this allowed? Is that a goal I can have?" and everyone nodded and smiled at the silly girl.)
2. To have "chitlins," as I put it. Kids, you know. Family expansion.
3. To go to Ireland. (It was where we almost-honeymooned. Alaska was a good replacement.)
4. To knit a sweater. (This one elicited some giggles, but I see a great cabled sweater as the holy grail of knitting. I also bought the super-expensive imported yarn for this sweater a half dozen years ago and, of course, need some warm-up sweaters, but am definitely looking forward to gifting it to a certain non-boyfriend-cursed man of mine.)
5. When we are ready for a bigger house, because, you know, those chitlins will need space too, I hope for acreage (originally called "a big yard," I was reminded by my apartment-dwelling friends that my yard is big--I suppose it's all relative)--lots of space for the dogs and kids to run around, lots of trees, neighbors at a distance, and slopey roofs on the second floor. Maybe some chickens. For the eggs.