|Until That Moment, Bob Hadn't Realized How She Felt! |
Now, He Didn't Know What to Think . . .
My birthday was sublime! I was showered with presents and kisses and love, I ate fabby food and drank yummy fizzy lifting drinks, I spent the days fore and aft with some of my favorite people on the planet, the sun shone, my hair looked terrific.
On Friday, my Birthday Eve, I went to Target and found attractive, affordable patio cushions (I will scrub my old stained ones today and see how nice I can make them look — but I'm happy to have a good Plan B). Then I had a delicious lunch with the delicious Mrs. Cynicletary, who gave me fabulous chardonnay and a gorgeous new dress! I plan to live in it.
Our server put a candle in my strawberry shortcake and sang to me, which was very sweet. And I made a tasty veggie-pasta casserole for dinner, which everyone loved, and had a fun night watching The Office with Li'l Martini, his new obsession.
And then Saturday a.m. I slept in till 9, which I almost never do but felt very luxurious, and then feasted on champagne and almond croissants and bacon and hot strong coffee, and opened presents presents presents! Lady Darcy made me the coolest collage of photos she took of streets with the names of my immediate family — I love it so much! (And she sent tons of other wonderful presents and a fat newsy letter — so awesome!) Her dad, whom I've known since I was 18, grows oregano, and he gave me a personalized jar of his finest, and I got a little weepy when I opened it; Lady D lost her mom last year, and her dad is such a peach. Parents should live forever.
And Husband did the cutest thing; he has all these vintage comic panels, and he made eight cards for me, with hilarious captions he dreamed up himself. ("Bob," above, might be my favorite, but they are all excellent. I see a huge Anne Taintor-like future for him!) His presents for me were wonderful. The funniest was a pair of "workout gloves" ('cause I'm such a jock now, don'tcha know), which I plan to wear to zumba this week. Or maybe the funniest was the adorable wind-up babygirl, since I'm always telling him I need another baby. (Which I don't. Except when I see a really cute one. My uterus is an idiot.)
His sweetest present didn't actually come to fruition, but in this case the thought truly does count. The farm where I get my CSA share has, among other critters, a llama, which can sometimes be seen walking up and down Mass Ave. Husband called the farm to see if the llama would make a birthday house call. How amazing is that? If a llama came to my door on my birthday, I would go Kristen-Bell-sloth-in-the-house batshit.
(And then I would kiss the llama a hundred times because, hey — birthday llama.)
Something interesting and kind of awesome that happened is that I had a strong urge to move my body and get some exercise, which is so unlike my usual self!! But it was my birthday and I honored all my impulses, so off to the bike path I went! And sometimes exercise is like moving through molasses, but on that day my muscles were silky and ready to glide, and the weather was breezy and beautiful, and I had a great walk. And then I had sushi for lunch and honored my impulse to order (and eat) everything I wanted . . .
. . . and learned that sometimes my impulses are really, really bad and wrong.
Oh! it was so delicious. Oh! did I eat too much! I was very uncomfortable afterward, cradling my overfull tummy like I was about to birth a tiny sushi baby.
So when Good Neighbor Anne came over to join me for a birthday drink, we instead had a birthday stroll around the block, a birthday icepack for my arthritic knee, and some birthday cold water. But it was awesome, we sat on her porch and yakked for hours, which we haven't had a chance to do in ages. She is right across the street, and yet we can go weeks without seeing each other. It's terrible. But this was a perfect birthday treat!
It was just a great, fantastic, wonderful day, and I felt happy and loved.
And then we did Mimosa's progressive birthday party the next day, and it was fantastic and she had a total blast. So all in all — a pretty kickin' weekend!
And today — boo-hoo, Husband leaves for a week in Hyde Park, N.Y., I'll be a single mama. It'll be okay, though; he's been sleeping in the basement with his bronchitis for almost the entire month of July, it may not feel all that different. I will miss him, though.
Off to scrub some patio cushions! That's a big disgusting job, it should distract me from missing my man.
(Hey, does my writing look a year older?)