Often an enticement listed in Real Estate ads, our cabin has hardwood floors. Not just any hardwood floors—they’re probably antique.
The homestead cabin’s hardwood floor (Photo: Mark A. Zeiger).
Many parts of our cabin come from salvaged buildings, mostly from the historic Fort Seward in town. The U.S. Army built the fort around the beginning of the previous century.
Yesterday, we celebrated a special birthday for Aly: she’s now 25 years old!
She enjoyed a rare consecutive two days off, so we stretched out the celebration.
We enjoyed sunny weather on Aly’s birthday for the first time we could remember since the evening she was born (Photo: Sarah A. Zeiger).
The evening before, we made her second choice for birthday dinner, sushi (for purists, we actually make glorified California rolls). On the day itself, I made two family classics: bumbleweed pesto (see Am I Working Too Hard? Bumbleweed Pesto) and chocolate cherry cake (see Recipe: “Mom’s Chocolate Cherry Cake). She invited a dear friend to spend the evening with us, and stay over night.
On the day of her birthday, since Michelle had to work, Aly and I celebrated in our own familiar way, including a ramble around the peninsula to check on mushroom development (see Popping Buttons) and a long, leisurely leftover sushi lunch on the veranda. Michelle and our friend joined us in the late afternoon.
Through it all, even though I had a blog post in mind, I steadfastly refrained from stalking her with a camera. That’s why I’m illustrating this post with photos Aly took.
Aly’s recent photo of “The Solar Garden” (Photo: Sarah A. Zeiger).
Pretty tame stuff, particularly compared to some years (see Aly Turns 17 Today) but it suits our lifestyle. Meanwhile, Michelle and I are amazed by what a wonderful young woman we managed to raise.
We’re feeling wistful as well as smug. A recent comment Aly made about a gathering of her friends took me aback momentarily: she described it as a group of adults. I tend to think of everyone there as “our kids,” but that doesn’t apply anymore. As much as I cling to the concept of “Daddy’s little girl,” I’m beginning to accept (and remember at appropriate times) that she’s an adult, four years older than her mother was when we married! I sometimes fall back into the familiar rhythms of life with Aly when she was a child of the household, rather than a fellow adult. Hopefully, that doesn’t get in the way of the relationship. I suppose if we treated her like a child, she’d make new living arrangements in a hurry.
However well or poorly I manage to deal with it, Aly’s completed a quarter century of life, hopefully the first of several! That’s worth celebrating.
