Older than Dirt {tales from a fortieth}

Older than Dirt {tales from a fortieth}

I prefer to think of it as a celebration of twice the twentieth. Also known as, a wrinkle in time. But perhaps most commonly known as, “the fortieth” (I just realized that I can’t spell numbers worth a toot). ‘The Fortieth’ sounds so somber. So… old.  I mean seriously, my parents turned forty. And it doesn’t seem like it was that long ago. My mom had a surprise party for my Dad upstairs (which I’m sure he knew about) and took a rented bus full of friends (the bus, not the friends) to Jacksonville to see the roller-skate musical Starlight Express. It wasn’t that long ago they turned forty, and it sure wasn’t that long ago we crawled down Tennessee Street for celebrating (the official) 21st birthday. Either way, today was a built-up-this-is-suppose-to-be-big fortieth (yes, I had to google the spelling– again). And as it turns out, over the hill is just an ordinary day, doing ordinary things, with extraordinary people. Which is precisely how I like it.


There are a few things that may be slightly different, or at least feel that way. Namely weight (6 hours of cardio a week- seriously?!), wacky hormones (sorry, Mr. Robinson), and my skin regime cost me two-fold these days (you’re welcome, Mr. Robinson). In no particular order. Of course. And really, people tend to live much longer now so 40 isn’t over anything— 50 is the new forty. Haven’t your heard? So what’s all the hoopla about anyhow?

PS- If you need me, I’ll be in the fetal position in the corner….

Sb 2017 park


Older than Dirt via grateful simplicity