Birthday Ruckus, Part 1 (aka the beginning and the end)

I am too old to party like a rock star. Let's repeat that. I am waaayyyy too old to party like a rock star. Or even like my 22 year-old evil twin doppelganger. I hurt. But oh, it was so worth it.

Flowers from my daughter for my birthday. Granted, she can't even pronounce the word hydrangea, but they were mighty pretty.


Reason #1 I love grown up birthdays. Who needs juice boxes when you and your guests can drink from a split of champagne with a bendy straw? That's how I rock it. Keeping it klassy, folks. That was the beginning of the evening.

For the conclusion of our dinner, here is the super dessert that I made for dinner. What? I am not supposed to make my own birthday dinner? Whatevs. How else could I get my fix for the most delicious peach and raspberry shortcake on the planet? This recipe is from the Barefoot Contessa.


Hello, lover. You beautiful shortcake, you. Come to mama!


This the picture of peach perfection. As we were dissecting the beauty of peaches, we Southerners (yes, the rest of y'all are Yankees) decided that the best peaches in the planet are found in north Georgia and middle to eastern Tennessee. And the best way time to eat them is the day before they look like they are about to go bad. You probably have a 24 hour window in which to eat them before they turn into goo, so our timing turned out perfectly!

This is the finished product with homemade whipped cream and raspberries. I think I may have to have another one for dinner tonight. Happy birthday to me!