At first, thirty is a big number. $30 – really? 30 people at the house? Well, okay I guess we can do that. 30th birthday? Umm, if I have to! And so it goes until 30 just turns into another number. And then one day it’s not, like when it’s your 30th class reunion. . .or your 30th wedding anniversary. . .or, gulp, your ‘baby’ turns 30 years old. Yikes! How long was I sleeping? Eventually you realize that 30 is just the new 20, and 40 now represents 30, and you keep playing those mind games until it catches up with you. Which it does right about midway through your life, and that’s not necessarily a bad thing. It’s just the point at which you might start sobering up and remembering that there’s no destination without a journey. Thirty is a number on that journey. 30 days until vacation! 30 pastel cupcakes look really pretty, don’t they? A 30 minute workout isn’t too tough, is it?
And sometimes the number 30 is served up to you on an artful platter of olive oil and ancient balsamic vinegar, too pretty really, to even sop up your bread in because you know if you do then the 30 will get all fuzzy. And why let that happen when there are plenty more numbers where this one came from?