Today is my 42nd birthday.

I was treated to beautiful Indian food with friends last night, and this morning, to sleeping in, thick coffee, bacon and eggs, handmade cards and love notes, calls and texts from extended family, belly rubs with Morris, and an otherwise leisurely morning. Simple and perfect. 

The older I get, the less fuss there is about my birthday. This year I found myself almost forgetting my birthday was coming, and as a result, it is the least fussy ever. I think with so much energy directed toward myself over the past two months, I was eager for a quiet weekend of not-much-ed-ness. 

I've been craving normal. I had wanted to experience the full moon fully, and I had options to attend a number of full moon workshops today and tonight, but I've felt drawn to stay home. To introvert. To reflect. Pause. Be. 

I'm thankful that I get to see this birthday. It was touch and go there for awhile. While I still need a second surgery in the coming weeks, my doctors are confident that will be the end of my journey with cervical cancer. 

So, I'm setting up my reclaimed home office, grooving to this song while I do it, researching chicken coop plans and laying hen breeds in preparation for spring, and watching the clock to pick up C from her second school friend's birthday party of the weekend.

And then maybe some sushi for supper. 

My gift to you:

If you're looking for a treat for yourself, here are my recommendations from my days binge-watching Netflix and other sources while I recovered from surgery:

Captain Fantastic. Simply gorgeous. Beautiful script. Brilliant performances, especially Viggo Mortensen and all the kids. Funny. Sad. Thought-provoking. My kinda movie. 

The OA. Just watch it. Mesmerizing. Can't wait for season two.

13th. Now I understand more so why America is the way it is. Wow. And I have a deeper understand of why #BlackLivesMatter.  

Abstract: The Art of Design. If you have any interest in any kind of design at all, check this series out. 

Be Here Now. A beautiful tribute to a beautiful life. Andy Whitfield, who played Spartacus and soared to Hollywood fame, chronicles his family's journey with lymphoma. It's a love story. You'll never look at butterflies the same way again. 

Enjoy.

In love and light,

Jilly