Tag Archives: birthday

Round and round we go

I was born at dusk: 5:47. Sixty-three seems an impossible number but there you have it! It was a good birthday with ice cream cake, roses, “Little Women,” and calls from both boys.

(If you’re a parent to millennials, you know what a big deal a call is).

A string of grey grey days. I’m back to editing. Back to working on C’s quilt, which I am lap quilting in six pieces. Back to trying to ignore loud construction noise.

Today, the news unsettles me more than usual. Is it because we’ve arrived at that moment when a lawless leader has done so much damage to our institutions (think: the Senate, the DOJ), that he is, for all intents and purposes, a dictator? Nothing to hold him to account.

I worry about the press. I worry about the Freedom of Information Act, especially given how little disclosure is coming by way of the courts. I worry about the election in November. I worry about violence. I worry about how far and wide our petty leader’s retribution will run.

Please don’t tell me how little good worrying does — worry is not lessened by being made wrong for doing it! And, as you know, it’s not ALL I’m doing (though — HA! — I worry that whatever things I manage to do won’t matter enough to counter this tide of corruption).

On the plus side, I read a piece by some pundit opining that whoever the Democratic candidate ends up being matters very little. Turn out is everything. Not the freakin’ swing voters. Turnout. Not the policies. Turnout. That idea takes a little pressure off finding exactly the right (electable) candidate.

The press, the House, and a huge majority are the last places of hope.

Feels an appropriate moment to share this lovely and suitably profane gift from Deb Lacativa. We both know it references not caring about who thinks what about our views. The caring about outcomes, about the future, runs deep.

And then there is this gift from Michelle. I’d sent her my banner from Mo’s project and unexpectedly, she sent me hers. I walk by it many times a day. It cheers me up!

Lastly, thank you so much to all who took the time to read or listen (or both) to an excerpt from my novel. Thank you thank you. Your encouragement means more than I can say!

If you look for it again, don’t be surprised to find it gone. Publishers are weird about what constitutes publication so out of an abundance of caution, I will mark it private at week’s end.

Birthday Buns

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The title made you wonder, didn’t it?!!  No, this is very innocent, and briefly delicious.

For Danny’s birthday on Monday, I made cinnamon buns Sunday night.  They were delicious Sunday, puffy, light, gooey with glaze and sugary cinnamon, but sadly, overnight turned into rock-like lumps.

Dan is officially a teenager now.

In a week, we go through —

  • 3-4 gallons of milk
  • 3 half gallons of OJ, plus another fruit juice
  • a container of two of ice cream
  • a couple of boxes of cereal
  • many pounds of chicken, beef, and fish (combined)
  • 2 dozen eggs

The refrain, “Mom, I’m hungry!” can often be heard!

I’m sorry (in a way) that gas prices came down, because it took the heat off of the push for sustainable technologies and fuels.  But, when it comes to buying the groceries each week, I am certainly glad!!

15 Candles

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This year, C’s birthday gave me a gift — a reminder to go with the flow a little more.

All week, I peppered him with ideas for Friday night — should I call this friend, or that friend?  How about the shared birthday of J?  Nothing sparked much of a response, so I resigned myself to a quiet dinner with the four of us.  I THOUGHT I had accepted this but really I hadn’t.

cary-bday-dinner

His Dad was brining a salmon and I was assembling the ice cream cake, when one of C’s friend’s called and said they were planning a surprise party for him.  They brought snacks, had a cake delivered.  I made pork chops  (recipe from Caprial and John’s Kitchen) for a small army, K. grilled the salmon (a la Cooks, using my friend Elizabeth Germain‘s incredible recipe) and it turned into a party!  Not only was my worry for naught, it could have forced a plan that would have gotten in the way.