Nine Months Later

Nine months later and I am finally ready to admit to myself that this really happened. It’s also okay now ‘cause two other friends also crossed a remarkable age threshold this year. Time to finally eat the cake.

Musings from last December:

A significant birthday is about to slap me in the face. I’ve spent a year trying to decide what to do about it. Do I celebrate and if I do, how? I was going to have a bash with a friend whose birthday is close to mine, but a few months ago I opted for selfish and went with my own party. Now I’m days away from the event.

Invitations have been sent, my menu is set and I’m in the last throes of getting ready. I’d like to dig my heals in and stop the clock. I can’t. Time goes and I’ve got to go along…..want to or not.

So, how do I really enjoy this trauma? I’ve been so engrossed with table scapes, preparing food, cleaning and decorating---all kinds of minutiae---I haven’t allowed myself to feel what is coming. That age. I…..am….going…to be….65. Yeesh.

Maybe I should be knitting or looking at picture albums. I don’t have albums. All of my pictures are either framed or in piles. Panic or not. No ! I will focus on what I love. My friends are coming. Hopefully lots and lots of friends will show up and I’ll glaze through that extraordinary day in a haze of good conversation, hugs, too much wine and a lot of great food…which I will cook, present and serve. Happiness!

There is nothing better for me than getting ready for a party. And that is what I’m doing. I’ve cooked and frozen 250 potato knishes (Stan will eat at least half!). Two twenty inch seafood strudels are also in the freezer. (Cynthia said that’s all hers). I’ve stuffed them with tiny scallops, shrimp, lobster, glazed criminis and shallots, all folded into a thick béchamel with fresh dill, lemon juice and a pinch of cayenne. I’ve also got 150 Swedish meatballs, two tartars and an Antipasto board in the works.

I’m putting homemade marshmallows and mini black and white cookies on the coffee table and I’ve ordered a birthday cake with marzipan, butter cream and strawberries. Yum. I am a freak for marzipan.

A sentimental, old-fashioned champagne punch (with raspberries and sherbet) will round out the bar of wine, vodka and beer

So, my tummy will be happy. My mind will be occupied. My friends will surround me. That I will certainly enjoy. I’ll go to sleep tired and smiling. And, I will wake up the next morning 65 plus another day. Really, it will be just another day.

Maybe I should plan a good breakfast. Just in case.