As the thunder rolls into Brookside and the rain pelts the Holmes house, I sit at the table thinking about my friend Paula K-V.  I stopped to see her on my way home from work yesterday, after Rotary Club.  Just a spontaneous visit, I said.  She released a lovely peal of laughter.  First Colorado, now me, she responded.  Pretty soon you’ll have to change your blog to “My Year Of Living Spontaneously”.

I gaze at the birthday lilies on my table which have opened to full splendor.  I think about the friend who sent them so that I would have flowers at home for my birthday.  My neighbor rescued them from the porch and texted a picture of them to me.  I called my friend to thank him and told him that I hadn’t seen them yet but would, when I got home.  Where are you, he asked.  Denver, I replied.  He chuckled, at first unbelieving but then delighted that I had indulged myself in a brief vacation.

I had planned to get myself a tattoo as a sixtieth birthday present but instead I gave myself a four-day trip to a land of glorious vistas.  I might some day still get the tattoo but for now, I have these lovely lilies, the roses in full bloom at the office from the same friend, and my memories  of the mountains.

I’m not complaining.

Happy 89th Birthday to my mother, Lucille Johanna Lyons Corley, whom we lost thirty years ago.  I hope there are lilies in heaven.