Birthday Fest 09 is, alas, all in the rear-view now. I stretched it out as long as I could. Yesterday, I drove the 460-mile round-trip Fresno route once again in order to continue basking in the bright light of birthday glory, and have now retreated back into the familiar grey shadows of anonymity for another year or so. Me 'n' Alan Alda, Sarah McLachlan, Elijah Wood, Joey Fatone, Jr., and Jackson Pollock. Actually, only me. Those other folks don't do anonymity when it's not their birthday. And Jackson Pollock hangs out in the even-darker shadows, but not of anonymity.
Fortunately, Terry had some time off and hung out with mom and me at the California Pizza Kitchen, where, as if they knew, the Pear/Gorgonzola was back on the menu after a glaring absence of several years. Here we are, in front of the rain-splattered windows where Mom treated us to lunch. Thanks, Mom!
Is the rain so great?! But the long time in the car (about 8 hours, more or less) reminded me (again) that my windshield washers need changing. It was like driving through and impressionist painting. I'll get right on that tomorrow. Unless it's raining.
January, every year, seems to amble along at a slow and humane pace. Then, and I don't pretend to understand this for one minute, February picks up the pace and, before I can blink twice, it's Valentine's Day, Easter and Thanksgiving. Statements like that betray age. Along with other, not-so-subtle signs.
But choir is in session again, it's still cold for a few more minutes (maybe snow tomorrow), I'm covered with ink half the time these days, and all that makes me a happy unbirthday girl! Hope your unbirthday is a good one, too!
