Top ten reasons why ten is my favorite number.
1. It’s easy to add and multiply.
2. I was born on the tenth of July.
3. My first initial is J, the tenth letter of the alphabet. Jennifer…July…ten…
4. On scales of things, ten is usually best….unless you’re ranking pain.
5. We throw big birthday bashes on those big round numbers that are multiples of ten.
6. It’s the number of our fingers, and our toes. Where would the mani-pedi industrial complex be without these digits?
7. It’s the favorite number of lists. See Letterman, David.
8. It was immortalized as the “perfect” number by Bo Derek and her cornrows.
9. It’s the first number with double digits.
10. It’s a very fair, inclusive number. There’s a skinny numeral one, and a plump round zero, signalling acceptance to ectomorphs and endomorphs alike. Mesomorphs, you’re on your own. Go hang out with the bulging, muscular 8.
Our celebration involved a simple progressive dinner with our friends Carol and Frank, who live up the street. We began at their house with cold shrimp, followed by hot cream of crab soup. The nautical theme is appropriate, since Frank is a maritime attorney, Carol was raised in Baltimore, and they have a boat.
As always, their house looked stunning and the food was fabulous. Christmas decorations were everywhere, including vintage choirboy candleholders, each with a letter on his robe.
Carol had arranged them to spell NOEL but someone in the house had rearranged them to read LEON, which was much more entertaining.
Also, I feared that Frank had not gotten the memo saying “casual attire.”
But the tuxedo top was just a ploy
Around 10 (natch) we drove up to our house where the oven timer was dinging.
The lamb was perfectly roasted, as Chris had followed Julia Child’s instructions.
And my husband could pour his “private label’ Champagne from the Soviet-style state store at which Pennsylvania residents are forced to shop for libations. His initials exactly! What are the odds?
Really, the perfect start to the new year. Good friends, good food, good wine. Kids old enough to not need babysitters – all off at their own parties.
And so we open a brand new calendar and start a fresh new year. To Emily’s toast from yesterday, I clink an imaginary glass and say “here, here.” Here’s to a great 2010 for all. And I second Tiny Tim, “God bless us, every one.”
