A Birthday Wish
It's my birthday today. Thirty three. This afternoon, Ian, my parents and I are going to the Riverview to watch the USA v. Belgium game and then out to dinner. Then after, maybe Ian and I will spend the twilight hour out on the balcony with the cats.
I've been reading The Borrowers on my walks to and from work. Did you read these books when you were growing up? My mom read them to us when we were little, each night a chapter, my brother and I snuggled up in her big bed. I remember the bedside lamp, the white and orange and brown glass lampshade turning the yellow walls and bedspread a cozy shade of amber. And each night we'd live under the floor for a time with Arrietty and Pod and Homily.
Reading these books as an adult has been such a treat. I remember very little about the Clock family's adventures but very much about how they made me feel. How I longed for spool chairs and matchbox drawers and handkerchief sheets. How I dreamed of the world outside Arrietty's grate, to experience the immensity of it all from the perspective of someone so small. Flowers for parasols and hedges as tall as buildings, thistle brooms and wild strawberries. I wanted to find the badger's set more than anything, even though I didn't know what one was.
It all has me thinking about a little cottage in the woods...not much bigger than a boot is to a Borrower. A tiny kitchen with lace curtains and a gingham tablecloth. Or gingham curtains and lace tablecloth...I can't decide! And wildflowers and blackberries and sun falling through shivering leaves. And a candle in the window and a quilt on the bed. Adventures over every hill or beyond every bend in the road. That is my birthday wish...a wish for someday...