Hubbie. Lucky bugger.
His is the first birthday we’re experiencing at our Sea change home.
Forever more, when we talk of when we moved, and when we look back on that initial box-filled, dusty-cornered, shit everywhere year, we’ll always think of his birthday as the one we celebrated first.
We can’t celebrate it to the capacity we usually would celebrate a birthday in our family, but still, we’ll have the music pumping from the stereo that’s currently propped up on unopened boxes, there’ll be piles of pizza boxes as people stand around eating from napkins, and there may even be wine drunk from plastic cups, with a pile of alcoholic bottles helping up in a corner.
We started the main celebrations today, on his actual birthday, at a nearby local.
(Tee hee hee).
And it felt good.
Here’s to many more birthdays by the bay. I’m rapt. We all are.