Wanna see me eat a dumpling?

I’m 49 now. It happened on Sunday, and I wish you would have been here to celebrate with me.

But wait. The Internet can make time go all crazypants. (Example: I know a few people on Facebook who recently posted something that Nancy Pelosi said more than 20 years ago, and they acted as if she said it 20 MINUTES ago, and: “KILL THE BEAST!”) So, perhaps you CAN be there to celebrate with me!

Let’s see. On Saturday, we bought a car because it was time to buy a car. We purchased our most recent car nine years ago and we now have three drivers in the house and why do I feel the need to defend our decision to buy a car? Gheez! We bought a damn car! The new car is tentatively named Jameson, and she is orange. Sunset orange.


Jameson is a fine name for a car, but I’m thinking he looks more like a Clementine.

My birthday dinner? Biscuits and dumplings at Cracker Barrel.




(I knew Meredith was taking photos. I didn’t know how weird I look when I eat. And the closing of the eyes to celebrate the dumpling? If that isn’t food bliss, well…)

On Sunday morning, I got up and drank coffee out of my big yellow Willie Geist cup. I should have gone to church, but I didn’t go to church because I’ve been weird about church lately. When the girls got up, the four of us went out for coffee and then to an uncomfortable mall where Harper bought a necklace for me and I pretended to smoke.


We then went to my parents’ house to celebrate Mother’s Day with pizza, salads, Family Feud, and strawberry cake.

And that’s what it’s like to be me going from 48 to 49.

On Monday evening a group of us celebrated the 22nd birthday and life of our friend’s son. We laughed, we ate bread pudding, and we talked about Krystofer and how he continues to inspire his friends and family, and it felt like church.

On Tuesday morning I rescued a tortoise who was trying to cross a busy street. As I carried him to a better place (near a tall plant in cool grass) he put his little foot on my arm to feel more stable, and it felt like church. (Coincidentally, the tall plant in cool grass was in the side yard of a Jehovah’s Witness gathering place, which I suppose is ALSO a church, but it’s not my church. So, not church, but church.)


I was supposed to go to a concert this evening, but I stayed home to punish myself for making one of my kids angry this afternoon. The singer in the band they are watching right now is so good that he makes my stomach hurt, yet here I sit. (I’ve been known to rip out knitting projects to punish myself. I’ve been known to eat until I feel sick to punish myself. I know it’s weird and a little unstable, but I doubt I’m the only one who does it.)

Speaking of knitting projects, right now I’m making one of these, and tomorrow I’m taking Jameson/Clementine for a long drive to visit my sister. Church.

4 thoughts on “Wanna see me eat a dumpling?”

  1. 100% not the only one who punishes yourself although I prefer eating meat as a staunch vegetarian. (Specifically…chicken tenders from Zaxby’s.)

  2. Happy belated birthday and many more!

    I feel like all malls are uncomfortable anymore. They are either 3/4 vacant and depressing or trying to be An!Experience! and end up being way too much.

  3. Salads?!? No one’s fooled by your attempt to subvert the pizza-cake-SteveHarvey junk-food axis.

    Yesterday I played golf on one of Trump’s couses in Doral, FL, with a close friend who’s also a Navy SEAL. During the round, he saved a turtle who was stuck in a sand trap. I failed to file the story with the Miami Herald in time, but the headline should’ve been, “SEAL Saves Turtle; Inter-species Relations at All-time High”. Of course, Trump would blame the turtle: “Yertl had no business in there. It’s a hazard. Golf courses. Sand.”

    If I would’ve known it was your birthday, I would’ve flown to Saint Louie, driven to The Galleria, and yelled, “Fluid!!” until you showed up. Maybe next year for the big “5” “0”.

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