This is the real stuff.

So, I was running with a friend today and she was remarking on the fact that I had been married "a long time." Almost 16 years is a long time, I suppose. Danny and I have had our share of good and bad. Married life is not always pretty. It's not all passion, hearts, flowers and jewelry. It's helping you remember the "football hold" when the baby you are nursing won't latch on. It's loading a washing machine with the comforter that your child just threw up on. It's holding the hand of your mother-in-law and the hand of your  husband, as your mother-in-law takes her last breath. And, lately, it's blood pressure and colonoscopy scares. This is marriage. Sometimes, not pretty. Always beautiful.

If the Birks fit...

I will be 37 years old in just one month. The birthday itself does not upset me. What does is the fact that it took me so damn long to embrace who I am. I realized this as I caught the whiff of a sandalwood candle while browsing the shelves of the Home Economist's Market in Davidson. This was it! My happy place. Ten years ago, I tried to tell myself that a Coach Bag, the right house and a club membership were what I needed. It seems so shameful to admit to this. There's nothing wrong with any of this, but it's just not me. Show me a cute pair of shoes, and I'll smile. Show me organic, fair-trade, shade-grown coffee, and I'm over the moon! I have friends of all kinds, and yes, if you voted Republican, you are welcome at my table, even though we probably shouldn't discuss politics. But a decision has been made.  I am going to stop apologizing for not driving a mini-van, for not having (or wanting) a Pandora bracelet, and for wanting to camp instead of going to Vegas. Love and acceptance will come my way no matter what. How beautiful!