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A Spring Birthday

It's my birthday today, and it's sunny! More often than not, on May 23rd, it is raining. Today, I am thankful for the spring flowers not yet overtaken by the burgeoning green leaves that are pushing towards the sun; I wish the trees would stay kissed by the new, delicate light green buds forever. As I sit here writing, I am noticing the light perfume of my lilac tree outside my window, wishing that the blooms would last forever. One of my favorite flowers since I've been living on the coast is the hibiscus, and rosa rugosa, otherwise known as the beach rose. It reminds me of my mother's old-fashioned hybrid tea roses that threw off such a strong "rose-petal" fragrance when I was a child, similar to those sachets I'd store away in my bureau drawer. Ah, breathe it in, savor it, enjoy the aroma, before it fades! A little bit like life as you grow older! :)

From my new novel Unrest:

“Everything looks … so … medieval.” I smile tentatively, picking at the seat’s tweed fabric.

Mother says, “But I’ve heard Tehran can be quite cosmopolitan. Isn’t that right, Jack?” Dad shrugs, probably thinking more of the drink than Mother’s thoughts of sophistication.

“I’m hoping for an adventure,” Debbie says.

“Atta girl, Debbie! Hope is alive and well in spring,” Dad says.

And yes, it is spring—the second week of June. Temperatures of hundred degrees Fahrenheit, parched-dry mountains looking chocolate brown in the gathering shadows, fragrant lilacs and fat, round raindrops left behind in Ohio. Dad had warned us about culture shock. But the word ‘foreign’ didn’t feel big enough.

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