BabyGirl posed Faith in one of my birthday cowboy hats for this fetching shot. Her chocolate self was not amused. My birthday weekend was more fun than a barrel of redneck southern gals and eased the transition to fifty one. Thanks to all of y'all who bought a beer, drove the boat, sent a card, baked an ice cream cake or just showed up to play on the water. Kudos to Toby for cooking burgers and brats and for making sure we didn't drown while retrieving the remote control speed boats. *Too.much.fun*

Here's the thing about getting another year older for a baby-boomer-southern-gal-smartass kind of redneck. The past becomes a sort of mellow patchwork quilt, created from where you've been without the angst staining the squares. It's okay if the dogs lay on the quilt and keep you warm when you're lonely. Ditto for the umpteen kitties. Middle age is all about embracing what makes the soul happy. My old soul is mighty tickled to have a cordless drill of my very own. And the cutest purse! And enough candles to see me through the dark nights ahead while I journal and listen to relaxing music until SugarDaddy shows up. Damn ornery old cuss is sure taking his time.

Next year I'm asking for a hog like Mary's.

I'm just sayin'.