When I was a little girl, being the birthday girl meant I that wore a gold paper crown and carried amagic wand (a star on the end of a foil-wrapped paper-towel roll), and got to be Queen for a Day, and make wishes.
My friends and I ran through sprinklers, played on tire swings, blew bubbles, and ate Carvel ice cream cakes under the tall leafy trees.
Later, when everyone had gone home, my grandfather would pull the big red book of fairy tales (probably a Reader's Digest edition) off the shelf behind his recliner, and I'd sit on his lap, and he'd read to me.
I liked the more obscure fairy tales, best, the ones Disney never mangled, but I also had a special fondness for Sleeping Beauty.
In the traditional version of The Sleeping Beauty, faeries, invited as godmothers, celebrate the birth of a longed-for baby girl by gifting her with gifts of beauty, wit, grace, and musical talents.
Today, in celebration of my 35th birthday, I wish to bestow similar gifts upon all my friends in the blogging community.
Translation: Comment here between 12:00 AM and 11:59 PM CDT on 17 August 2005, and I will offer you a gift from my heart.
All gifts are offered at the discretion of the giver, and are final. Some may be accompanied by small doses of affection, humor, sap, or snark. Returns and exchanges are encouraged. One size fits most.