My birthday bash

I love birthdays, and I was not about to let the quarantine dim my celebration. I have friends who claim they want no attention paid to their birthdays, want them to pass without notice. I don’t think this is self-deprecating modesty but more likely an attempt to deny the passage of time and the aging it brings. I’ve never felt that way, and while I won’t brag about which birthday this was (not a decade changer), I will say I’m grateful to start yet another year in good health, feeling content, and looking forward to the future, perhaps this year more than usual. Things are bound to get better.

This may have been one of my best birthdays ever. My celebration began days before my birthday with the trip to the lake house that Jordan arranged, planned, and oversaw. She worked so hard on lists and meals and details, and it paid off—it was a smooth, easy, getaway for all of us except her. While I lounged, she waited on me hand and foot and cooked us some delicious meals. When it came time to leave, she spent half a day cleaning and closing up the house, so it would be in perfect shape when the owners returned. But I got away from the cottage for three days, and I was beyond grateful.

Christian, meanwhile, got food duty. I requested fried chicken for my birthday supper, with mashed potatoes and green beans—a comfort meal. Good fried chicken, the kind done bone-in, is hard to find, but we had earlier had from Drew’s Place that was everything fried chicken should be—crisp, a bit greasy, just enough spicy, delicious. I called to inquire about a family pack for eight people—no answer and the mailbox was full. The web site had a place to contact them, but I never got an answer. So the day before Christian went by, placed the order. Then the day of my birthday he had to go back to pick it up by 3:00 because that’s when they close.

My oldest daughter, Megan, her husband Brandon, and grandsons Sawyer and Ford arrived from Austin about 5:30. They were on their way to Colorado to visit family and then friends, so it worked out perfectly. We sat on the patio visiting, talking of everything from politics to food. Had a grand time.

Dinner was a hit. The Austin family said I had made the perfect choice. With social distancing in mind, we didn’t all crowd around the table but let the grandsons eat in the family room. They reappeared, however, for cake—chocolate mousse cake from Central Market. We ate huge pieces, which was probably a mistake after greasy chicken. Some of us didn’t sleep well.

Megan brought me a butter keeper. I think soft butter is one of life’s luxuries, and I had given her one some time ago. She said they eat more butter now because it’s always soft. So far, I am a failure—I “loaded” the keeper, but the butter was so soft it fell out. She suggested I put it in the fridge for 30 minutes. A day later, it’s still there. But I will master this.

Jordan is working on getting a stained glass panel to hang in one window in my living room where the immediate view (and I do mean immediate) is a hurricane fence with straggling honeysuckle—everywhere else the honeysuckle, though a predatory nuisance, is lush and lovely; in this one spot, it simply doesn’t thrive. I’d like a red cardinal in stained glass but that may be a little extravagant. A simple abstract might be more feasible.

But two gifts I will treasure because of the thoughtfulness that is behind them.

Sophie celebrated my birthday by getting groomed. Partly for me, partly for Megan who loves her but loves her best when she is clean. So she was clean, her coat soft and sweet smelling. But we had a new groomer who put ridiculous bows at her ears. They were on stretchy string which tangled in her fur, and we had a heck of a time getting them off, much to Sophie’s discomfort. She made it clear she did not want us to touch them, but Brandon did it.

A day to remember. Now on to new adventures at my desk.