How old would you be if you didn't know how old you were?

I had quite the birthday!

Dean made and frosted a cake for me, with only limited assistance. Chocolate cake with coffee buttercream icing. Quite magnificent! Dinner out at Blue Ginger, and our first in-person sighting of an Iron Chef contender.

Neither 29 nor 39 caused me a moment's pause. But 49 feels a little different. My age has always seemed to be this arbitrary number, sitting out there at some distance to myself, fairly meaningless. This feels a little more weighty. I'm not depressed or upset, I'm just mindful, for once, of what the number means (or at least what it carries with it). I wondered briefly if I should be doing anything differently (hair style? cosmetics?) but Ken and Dean voted resoundingly against my changing things up. I'm looking forward to spring and being able to get outside again, and go hiking and generally being more active.

Meanwhile, it is snowing here. Again. But lightly, and hopefully not worth more than an inch or two.