I turned 41 today. What a strange age. I wasn't happy turning 40 last year-- I was bummed at leaving my thirties behind. 40 sounds so mature, so...responsible. 41 is just nine years away from 50. And 50 is just a drop away from 60, which is totally mature and you sure better be responsible by that point!
I swore that I was going to stay in bed all day and watch tv, which is a rare treat. So I took in all my landscaping and cooking shows and by noon, I was itching to do something else.
For some reason, I headed out to the compost pile and started working on a new section in the flower garden. I pulled weeds, mixed up compost with peat and spread it around. Everything looked pretty good after a few hours. The hubby and I worked on another section near the side of the house, which was overgrown with clover and thistle. Our neighbor's house is smack next to this area and I'm sure they appreciated seeing the hostas instead of the the thistle. I even experienced a Zen moment while taking a break and sitting in the swing and taking in the flowers. I told the hubby, "We need more moments like this..."
We ordered pizza tonight and I went for a bike ride with the kids-- the first time that I actually used the bike this summer.
Definitely a productive day-- maybe 41 isn't so bad after all.