Nine years ago today, 2012 to be precise, I celebrated my 45th birthday surrounded by alpacas somewhere in the Deep South of Germany and grinned stupidly at the inquisitive animals I accidentally got locked in with. While stomping around mud and alpaca excrement, happy to have my camera in hand, I wondered that morning where I would be when the numbers of my age reversed and I turned 54. It seemed so far away at the time and not something that was really worth contemplating.
Exactly nine years later I am in Germany again, sans alpacas, contemplating my age, and quite frankly, absolutely horrified that I am exactly at that point I almost thought impossible. My world has since imploded several times over, I feel as though I’ve been run over by freight trains from all directions and screwed several times over by Life and her Biker Gang (this should be a book title). Nevertheless, as I count my blessings for my 54th year as a citizen of the universe, I have a lot to be grateful for.
Friends, my soul pillars who have seen me through the worst of times and given me the best of times.
Family, likeminded souls who honour the family roots, traits, and keep me grounded, allowing me to soar to new heights with the knowledge that no matter how bad I screw up, they will always be my safety net.
My darling daughter, who honoured me this year with her first ever homemade cheesecake. So in true FrogDiva tradition, we skipped lunch and dove straight into the cheesecake, ditched the coffee and plunged into the rose wine.
As a child my mother always baked me chiffon cakes strewn with candies. They were never elaborate cakes but always loaded with so much love and a sweetness that came from the heart rather than the candy or icing. Later on she moved on to bake more of my favourites that have become staples in my life. My daughter has taken on the role of baking me a cake for my birthday now, something unfathomable nine years ago.
The journey from 45 to 54 has been a hell of a roller coaster ride that metamorphosed into a horror train along the way, but it had its wonderful decadent cruise moments and fun road tripping. I’ve jumped out of airplanes, gone with her through hell and back, and I have been blessed with every reason to be happy today. Last week I wailed to friends that I find it disgustingly morbid that my 60th birthday is looming over the horizon, and I have no clue where I’ll be. But for now. I’ll celebrate my kick-ass attitude for the day.