Today is my berfday! I call it a berfday, because birthdays remind me of childhood. Balloons, cake, presents, fuss. Of course I don't call it a berfday out loud.
This time last year I was here:
and often here:
and frequently here:
and all over here:
People sang to me is a foreign language:
and I was the embarrassed center of attention for a few minutes.
But that berfday ended in a "zero", and I felt the need to do something extraordinary.
This year's berfday ends in a "one", of course.
We'll spend the day doing errands, take a walk, go for a quiet dinner for two, and then have the family over on Sunday.
....and I'll enjoy it just as much.
This wasn't meant as a solicitation for Birthday wishes. In fact, if you are moved to comment, then please tell me about a memorable birthday of yours. Or what you would like to do to make a memorable birthday.
Or if you prefer a quiet day with no fuss at all.
Or if you still picture birthdays as childhood celebrations (like I do).
Honestly, shouldn't there be some balloons in that picture?
5 comments:
Happy berfday! I think a mariachi (spelling?) band trumps a few balloons anyday.
Mine's a one this year too.
Happy Berffffffday!
Wonderful! I had my berfday last week, and it was just perfect. But next year is a zero one, and I'm looking forward to it already!
Happy, happy berfday, Kathryn!!!
Happy demi-siècle + 1, Kath! Sounds so much more elegant in French, n'est-ce pas?
Three memorable birthdays come to mind: the first, whe I was 16 and my grandparents rolled up in the -36 Packard. Grandad got out with a big bouquet of sweetpeas in his hand. Now it's entirely possible that it was Grandma who prodded him into the gesture, but I've never forgotten it. Such a taciturn guy who wasn't given to displays of anything, never mind affection.
#2 was my 21st, when my mom turned up at a surprise pary a friend had planned with one of her clever, creative and original cakes.
#3 was a few years ago when P and I went out for dinner at a hip, happenin' new bistro that turned out to be almost entirely empty save for 6 young, very good-looking priests in black cassocks at the table next to us. We decided to let the chef choose our menu for us, and it was terrific. Six courses, as I recall, and stuff I would never have chosen for myself otherwise.
Already having wished you a HB I'll move to my most memorable...49. DH took me to London and we went to Agatha Christie's "The Mousetrap" with friends. We had supper before across the street at a wonderful place named THE IVY. I'm told it's no longer there...what a shame. Love your last year pics.
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