I just celebrated a birthday.... 59 as a matter of fact. I’m not ashamed to admit my age because it really doesn’t matter. As I get older and increase in years, gray hair (thank you, God, for good colorists), wrinkles (from enjoying way too much sun in my fair-skinned youth), and joint pain (from way too much gardening), I can’t think of anything I would have changed or done differently. I wouldn’t have traded those sun-filled days by pool and beach for anything! Those are the best memories I have! The joint pain is proof of my love for gardening (my garden spaces are really quite beautiful) and I won’t give up the spade and shovel until my fingers are completely frozen. The gray hair is easy to cover up. So I’m thankful for good health and I will wear these signs of aging with pride and I’ll keep on plugging away until I literally can’t anymore. Age truly is just a state of mind and, as I am no longer young, (well, Aunt Blanche thinks I look like a teenager but she’s 102) I’m no