A white-out on my Black Monday

I knew I was in for some razzing when I woke up this morning and heard my two favorite radio guys talking about a monumental birthday being celebrated on this, the 10th day of January.

From the moment I heard the words, “Lordy, Lordy,” I knew this was probably going to be a day to remember.

Yes, turning 40 … hitting the Big 4-0 … making it Over the Hill – however you want to phrase it – is a milestone that brings mixed reaction for me. For the past couple of weeks, I’ve been referring to this day as my Black Monday.

Thanks to the Highway Patrol (aka Chad and Matt of the morning show), my day started out with a laugh. And no � they did not (nor will they ever) convince me to take the Deep Freeze Dip in Lake Okabena on Saturday.

I must admit, I wondered what on earth prompted them to bring up the goat-raising days of my youth. The answer appeared before my eyes when I paged through the Daily Globe over breakfast. Gee, thanks Mom and Dad for putting in those “lovely” pictures for the whole world to see!

For the first time in a few years, I actually worked on my birthday. Thanks to my newsroom co-workers, black balloons and a special one labeled “Over the Hill,” graced my desk this morning, but perhaps most embarrassing was when a cohort walked through the newsroom and said (quite loudly) “Happy Birthday Old Lady!”

I think I look nothing like an old lady. My grey hair doesn’t dominate my brown hair (at least I don’t think so), I don’t have wrinkles (yet), and I don’t need a cane to get around (although I could use some of that Icy-Hot on my aching elbow and shoulder).

Thanks to Facebook, I had many birthday wishes today – all of which made me smile or LOL (Laugh Out Loud). Perhaps the most notable came from my 16-year-old niece, Jessie. She wrote: “Happy birthday. You are now officially OLD! Just kidding…. (you have been old for a while now) !!! :) hahaha Love You.”

I thought about replying, “Just wait until you’re 40 and I’ll call you old,” but then I did the math and realized I’d be 64 and knocking on the door of retirement. Yeah, it doesn’t sound any better writing it out than it did saying it in my head!

At least she loves me – I think!

Getting all of the little messages from Facebook has been wonderful, especially since we are in the middle of another annoying southwest Minnesota snowstorm. I’d planned to drive out to the farm tonight, but just getting around town in my 2-wheel-drive was challenging enough.

Plan B was for the folks to drive in and get me with the 4-wheel-drive truck. They made it less than a mile before turning around and going back home.

So, here I sit – at the office with a few co-workers and some leftover pizza (Dad’s treat for not being able to get me to spend my birthday evening at the farm.)

I’m craving my made-from-scratch birthday cake that Mom made – it’s chocolate with real whipped cream. She said she’ll put it in the fridge and save it for tomorrow.

It will taste just as good tomorrow night (provided they don�t succumb to temptation and eat it). Then again, Mom said tomorrow’s forecast is for wind.

That can only mean one thing – a ground blizzard.

Maybe I should just tell Mom to put that cake in the freezer.

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