Sixty-something woman shares ruminations as she plys the latter third of her life with the caveat that age entitles her to be absolutely outrageous whenever possible.
"We Three"
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
A tiny march of days...
Three friends and I are having a party to celebrate 20 years of sobriety. I got to design the invitation, and this is the first of 5 images I diddled up last night. I think I could have quit with this one, now that I look at it again, but you know, if one is good, five are better! That's why I became an alcoholic in the first place! My contribution, and it is a small but affordable one, is the decorations. I plan on butterflies, because they represent transformation, and are easy to draw and paint, since I plan on about 20 of them around the walls, with summery garlands and orange, yellow and green tablecloths. Should be bright and festive. And, HP knows, getting sober is not as hard as staying sober. That is where the work comes in, day after day, through deaths and disappointments, through weddings and holidays, through betrayals and lies. That's just life, and people. Fallible people. It is seeming easy at the moment, but there is no stress in my life. Unless you count the butterflies I have not begun to create. And there's only 2 more months to do it!
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