Having a Happy

I woke up this morning, the 56th anniversary of my Mom's last trip to the maternity ward, and couldn't get back to sleep. I was not, as I would have expected, anticipating the day, or looking back on the last 56 years. No, I was—true to form—writing.

I have a songwriting assignment due Monday, and I'm not quite there with it yet, and I was trying to sort out the lyrics in my head. This is how I do much of my writing. I get a lot of the mental part done while I'm working, as my job requires far too little mental effort.

And so, this is how I started my 57th year. So where do I stand at this time in my life? Well, things could be better of course, but there are a lot of folks these days that are suffering financially. I have a roof over my head and plenty of good food to eat, and that by itself is a lot more than many people can say.

But I have so much more. This morning, over a breakfast of eggs, scrapple (a special treat I'd never have know about if I had not married a certain gorgeous New Jersey native), and toast made from home-made bread, my family gave me my gifts. The most expensive was a tall bottle of maple syrup purchased from a workmate of Karen's who puts up this local liquid gold every year. The rest of the gift bag was filled with little food treats from the dollar store, including banana chips and Whoppers malted milk balls. I couldn't have asked for more.

Today, my family will be taking me out to a very early dinner, because I am scheduled to do lights and sound for a marvelous show at the Village Players. Karen is attending the show tonight, so we will get to hang out with the cast and crew before and after the show together. That's what I call a celebration.

And sometime during all of it, I need to work on my song, and help Karen with the construction of her camping trailer. Work? Yes. But both labors of love.

Now, anyone who has been following our page knows that I am limping along, literally, with an injured knee; a brand new offset aluminum cane is my companion whenever I leave the house. Certainly, this must be making me feel a little old. But as my first knee surgery was more than 40 years ago, when I was fifteen, this is pretty familiar territory.

And rather than viewing it as a sign of aging, I'm just annoyed at my knee for it's inconvenient sense of timing. The injury has made work, theater, and projects around the house go much slower. And the prospect of another surgery is mostly daunting from a financial and schedule perspective, but it's not unexpected.

And so, at 56, I might want some things to be much different than they are now, but I have a wonderful family, and some exciting, creative things to do. All in all, a good life.

And I've managed to avoid the word for about ten paragraphs now, but it's time I gave in.

Yes, today is my birthday.