Well, now that I've been 44 for a few days, I'm ready to post about it.

So far, it's like 43.  It's fine.

I had a nice birthday, though - chocolates, garden statuary, a cookie-cake, lots of greetings and some nice cards.

I am loved, for sure.

Not surprisingly, I thought about Dad some, and I wish I could call him and tell him what's been going on lately.  I think he'd be happy.

But, that is what it is, y'all.  Moving on.

I am going to vote on Thursday - tomorrow is Halloween, and I'm dithering on whether to dress up or not.  I'm kind of leaning "or not" - but it would surely make what to wear tomorrow a non-issue.  I already know that I'll be handing out candy at home, and I have lunch plans with colleagues tomorrow.  I'm bringing this:

Halloween Bloody Severed Finger Hot Dogs, Gross Halloween Food, Finger Food, Halloween Party Food, Salty Canary

Because who doesn't love a good hot dog?  Right, exactly.

Over the weekend, I spent some time with some really special kids.  The cloven-hooved variety.

The Shenanigoats people had a social hour with their new babies. Pippi and Poppi (twins), Olive, Pickle and Pimiento (triplets), TJ, Speed Racer, Lincoln (whose mother is Penny), and so on. 

Goats are warm - their body temp is 103 degrees Fahrenheit.  So imagine holding a sweet, warm baby goat in your lap and it falls asleep there, and they tell you she's smiling.   That's a good way to spend an hour or so.  I think I had either Olive or Pimiento...

I learned that goats gestate for five months.  Which is amazing.  When born they can walk THAT DAY.  And they have three stomachs.  And grow horns.  I needed the goat time, apparently.

Image may contain: Allison Breyer Everett, smiling, standing

I'm feeling a little sentimental and overwrought.  I know I need to simplify.  Maybe that is the plan for tonight.  Keep it easy.

I am also out of several meds that I need to pick up at Walgreens.  I am a delicate flower with special medical needs that require chemical intervention.  Depression.  Anxiety.  We've had this conversation.

So really - nothing new about 44.  It's the new 43.

That's it, y'all.  For now.