A Birthday Sort of Day

My birthday is not one of my favorite days, and as I get older, it becomes less and less so – a sort of annual memento mori!  When I was in grade school, my mother, a serious party girl, tried several times to muster my enthusiasm for a birthday party, and never succeeded - but she forged ahead anyway.  After the first two attempts, at which I spent most of the party in the bathroom throwing up, she abandoned the effort and my family went out to dinner at a nice restaurant.  This was a great relief to me.  I didn’t like other people’s birthday parties either, but I dreaded them less than my own.  This was a matter of nerves, of course, but also, given that my mother was sort of an early healthy food devotee, the birthday parties were not just a shock to my shy sensibilities, but also were a shock to my stomach, being no doubt the first sugary gastronomic onslaught in months.  This year, Rebecca was channeling my mom, and was all for a party.  I whined, and so we went to my favorite restaurant instead.  She made three cakes (to accommodate the various diets, and to include my favorite ginger cake,) and we had these afterward.  I have to confess, that without my mother to safeguard my diet, I tolerated the cake and ice cream much better than I did in my youth.   

Tom, Rachael, Marigold, and Becca

Marigold joined us for cake and ice cream, and I have to say that Tobias was not the best host.  The less said about that, the better.

My fabulous new purse!

Rebecca was horrified when she saw my previous post, about the lovely purses and such that Peggy made, because she had made me a nice little bicycling purse, special for when I cycled to her house to knit with her.  She worried that I wouldn’t need another purse, but this one has a totally different purpose.  And of course, I love it both because it is lovable, but also because my darling girl made it.