Another Year Older

Wynn Anne and Steve, May 1993

And it's not just any year older. I have reached the milestone of 50 years.

I don't feel 50. I feel, maybe, mid-thirties. And when I turn toward a mirror, I expect to see Wynn Anne circa 1990. I think my self-image froze in time about then.

Reality, however, has not been so kind. Gravity and failing cells have allowed sags and wrinkles, not to mention arthritis and diabetes. It is, alas, the common condition: we cannot keep our first blush of youth; our bodies march inexorably toward death.

Doesn't mean we have to rush things along, but it is the reality of aging.

Hmm. This isn't quite where I thought I was going with this . . . Let's get this particular meandering back on track!

In the lead-up to this milestone birthday, I wasn't feeling very celebratory. Diabetes, the angina scare, and a puzzling increase in the frequency and severity of my migraines left me resentful, truth be told. So I told Steve that, yes, I wanted a party, but to please keep it small. Still festive, but small.

He did as asked, but also managed to surprise me by arranging for my sister, Pat, to come up from Oakville. I was completely taken by surprise when she stepped out of the car. For some perplexing reason, I thought she was a cleaning lady. (Wha? Where did that come from?)

And then I blurted out, "I thought you were a duck!" The latter was a tongue-tie that combined from my having posted a note on Facebook about puppies and the fact that I was currently playing a game that involved ducks.

I did not, in fact, think she was a duck. And I was beyond elated to have her here. I couldn't stop hugging her.

See? She doesn't look like a duck. Or a cleaning lady.

The next day, Pat helped me get ready for the party and accompanied me on a mani-pedi.

Pat helped me choose these very girly balloons.
(Did you know there is a helium shortage in Ottawa? So we were told.)
I was in full-on princess mode, and loving every minute of it.

I also had one frivolous and very specific request: I wanted a piglet cake. As a Timid Traveler and Generally Anxious Person, Piglet is a bit of an animal spirit for me. The idea for the cake was inspired by this cake, which I discovered on Pinterest, but here's a link to the baker's blog.

Steve scoured the Ottawa area and found Justkist Cakes, who produced this absolutely huggable sculptured cake. Yes, it's all edible except for the head. 

Can you say, "Adorable"?

I didn't get pictures of everyone. As I've said before, I kind of lose my paparazzi momentum about half way through a party. Sorry, Emily, Peter, Barb and Stuart, Katie and Rovic, and Laurel, and Elliott!

Paul and Nancy

Kathryn sings Happy Birthday while Claus helps out with the beer.

Ron and Heidi

I forgot to get pictures of the delicious food, including Tiramisu made by Kathryn. Of course, when the time came to serve the cake, there was some understandable horror about having to pull off Piglet's head.

AHHHHHHH!

But we got over it. 

Even Elizabeth, who might have been traumatized, found it funny.
(She later ate an ear. Solid sugar.)
There were, of course, jokes about John the Baptist and Lord of the Flies.

A pretty perfect birthday party, I would say. Thank you, Steve, Pat, Barb, and Kathryn, for all the hard work, and to my friends and family for an uplifting day - and for your generous gifts. 

The man who made it happen.