My husband and I went out for dinner this week. We wore masks until seated and were delighted to find that our chosen restaurant, Cuba Cuba, had set up tables on its front lawn. We got there early enough to have lots of personal space in the great outdoors.
You’d think I’d go with the restaurant’s signature mojito, being it’s a Cuban drink and we were in a Cuban restaurant. But I can make mojitos at home (mint! I have mint!). Instead, we allowed some geographical mixing-it-up and toasted each other with Brazilian caipirinhas. (Sure, I could make those at home, too, but cachaça is harder to find than rum.)
When I was younger, I looked at older couples and wondered how could anyone be in in love with an old person? I mean, wrinkles and sags and bifocals and gray hairs and less hair where you want it and more where you don’t. All that general decrepitude? Not appealing, my 30-something self declared.
Hi. I’m this blog. I’m 8 years old today. Here is my life story so far.
I was born a poor, blogspot template and I was originally known as WeeblesWobblog. My midwives hailed from the ALI community (Adoption / Loss/ Infertility), prompting my birth and nourishing me in my early days (and now).
Within a couple of years, I grew bigger and caught the attention of a certain toy company. It sent my creator a cease and desist order which led to a name change for me. My person had already chosen her Appellation Trail name, Lavender Luz, which ultimately became my name, too, through a second and final name change.
Over the years I got to go tosomeconferences that were set up just for blogs like me, and my person got to know the people behind so many other fantastic blogs. We all had a grand old time figuring out how to grow and morph and monetize (or not) and connect, and most of all, to own and enjoy our space.
When I was almost 5, I found out I was going to have a younger sibling. Not a brother, not a sister, not even another blog, but a book!
Which is not news. I tend to have a glass of wine each evening. It’s as much a treasured daily ritual as my morning cup of coffee is.
The news is who I drank wine with (or maybe the shorter list would be who I didn’t drink wine with). In October, I got to drink wine with far-flung friends in Seattle, Portland, Eugene, San Francisco, and right here at home.
I was a girl who struggled with friendships back when I was my daughter’s age. I was shy, bookish, and I played in the band (not a cool kind of band but a 5th grade concert band — think Target commercial cacophony). I liked getting grounded on the rare occasions I misbehaved because it meant that instead of playing outside with other kids, I could be inside reading the “L” edition of the World Book encyclopedia (it was a relatively skinny one, unlike the massive “M”).
But you know that line from The Sound of Music, in which Maria and the Captain sing to each other in the gazebo? They mention their wicked, miserable pasts but conclude that
Somewhere in my youth or childhood | I must have done something good.
Somehow in the intervening years I have become rich in friends. I mean really, really great people kinda friends. Folks who are good-hearted, smart as whips, and generous in so many ways.
Close friends contribute to our personal growth. They also contribute to our personal pleasure, making the music sound sweeter, the wine taste richer, the laughter ring louder because they are there. — Judith Viorst