Thirty-Five

Thirty-five was a very good year. (Frank Sinatra is singing in my head right now. Yes. I am a huge nerd.) Here are some of the things that I did, learned, or experienced when I was thirty-five:

I did my own hair. I never got a professional haircut or any kind of color. I'm looking forward to remedying that situation sometime in the near future.

I achieved the goal of jogging (I almost said "running" but let's not get carried away) 4 miles at a shot.

I had a book published.

I had many prayers answered with calming peace. This is not necessarily exclusive to 35, but nice anyway.

I went on a great family vacation.

I bought leather couches.

I submitted a new manuscript.

I got a speeding ticket.

I sent my oldest baby to high school and my youngest baby to kindergarten.

I wrote many thousands of words.

I got really tan by hanging out in my own backyard.

I went to a few good writing conferences.

I came to be at peace with my body. Not in love with it, you understand. Just grateful for its capabilities rather than angry at its unwillingness to look a certain way.

I let go some things that needed to be let go.

I held on tight to some friendships that I really, really value.

I fell in love with Husband again. This is also a regular occurrence. And fun.

I tried writing a book in reading order: from the beginning to the end.*

I saw my appliances, at the verge of death, resurrect and perform all their functions well.

I read a great deal of YA literature, some great, some terrible, some: meh.

I had people come to my book signings (and yes, I knew almost all of them. So what?)

And today, thirty-five is over. I wonder what's in store for thirty-six?

*It's not very good yet. Revision time!