Birthday Weekend

This weekend I turned 57.
I think I will remember how old I am this year
without the usual subtraction
because I was also born in '57.
I usually celebrate with ice cream
and a wade in a local creek,
but his year 
we celebrated by going south.
Not the balmy breezes south,
just far enough south to see daffodil buds
and hear spring peepers.
While Den visited friends
and looked at campers
and bought a book about early exploration in Pennsylvania,
I attended a SCBWI conference
(Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators)
near Frederick, MD.
Did you know that you can get free books
if you will write reviews of them?
And that leprosy is now totally curable?
True.
I had lunch with a woman who worked for the Washington Post
and NPR
who is writing a children's book about leprosy.
I had supper with Den.
Crab linguine.
Travel rule number 16:
Always have crab when in Maryland.

We came home through Gettysburg.
On the Culp's Hill drive,
I spied a creek near Spangler's Spring
that was perfect for wading,
or as perfect as it gets at 37 degrees and raining.

My feet warmed
in Ronn Palm's Museum of Civil War Images
where Abe Lincoln's bronze life mask and hands
hung above the door.
I was moved by his hands.
Abe's right hand
held a piece of broomstick
to make his fingers curl;
he had been unable to make a fist
as shaking hands with hundreds of people
had swollen his right hand. 
We then went down the block
to Lord Nelson's Gallery
and came out with a Bev Doolittle print.
Den had thought it was impossible for a picture
to show the majesty of the Great Plains,
but found he was wrong.
Rolling landscape.
Blowing prairie grass.
Amazing skies.
Indians on horseback.
Bison herds.

Lucy and four of the five black olives

I felt the dry breeze in my hair
and heard the rumble of thunder.

A State College stop where family and friends
big and small,
on and off key,
restrained and enthusiastic,
sang "Happy birrrrrrrthday dear Graaaaaaaaaammy"
while three candles burned
on an ice cream cake,
followed by a supper that had,
joy of joys,
black olives.
It was as perfect
as a rainy cold spring weekend can be.
And the fun is not over.
Tomorrow is Ugly Sweater Day!