Turning 34

I think Gill may need her own blog at this point. She just sent this in to wish herself a happy birthday. Happy birthday from us here, too.

In ancient times 34 was similar to that of 100 today, meaning it was a rare milestone, and few reached it.

Flash forward to the world of the 19th century, and an unmarried woman of 34 was pitied, a teacher, or looked down upon.

Now dear friends out there in Readerland I would like to say we have civilized since books of 200 years ago told us to pity the unmarried middle 30 something woman, and medical advances have got us living much longer.

Today at about seven-thirty when my mom and dad called they asked me if I felt any older, and I could say not yet.

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