Another Year

Saturday, I'll be forty-seven years old. Kicking fifty in the behind. Sometimes it bothers me. Most of the time it doesn't.This year, hubby took me to New Orleans. I write this blog fresh from a great night in the Big Easy. I got to eat oysters at the Acme oyster house, something I always wanted to do. A complete stranger recited a love poem to me on the street (that was weird) another stranger asked if he could be my second husband (more weird) and I took pictures with all kinds of  characters...