Showing posts with label Rachaels birthday. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rachaels birthday. Show all posts

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

A signal day

A signal event! Rachael turned twenty-one! Who would have thought such a thing could have happened so quickly! It seems like days ago that her place at the table was on my lap. She refused to have her own chair, but did agree to have her own plate. So when the table was set, there were always two plates right next to one another in one place, and one chair for that spot. Now I have trouble corralling her to even eat for dinner with me at all. In years past, Rebecca and I have prepared a big dinner for family and friends on Rachael’s birthday, but this year she preferred to go out and rooty toot with her friends. Fancy that! Everyone (with the possible exception of said friends) was disappointed. The next day, Auntie Pauline invited Aunt Dakki, Rebecca, me, and Rachael (of course), for ice cream and cake to celebrate the event. Rachael, who had declined to have a party even on a different day, seemed pleased about this. Here is the Birthday Cake with the proper number of candles – the yellow each representing five years, and the blue, one year.

Thinking back to my 21st birthday, I recall that I went out to the local pizzeria with my friend Shelley, and ordered 7-Up because (a) I didn’t really like the other options, and (b) I was embarrassed to show my ID and have a fuss made. Having dinner with my parents would never in a million years have occurred to me as an option. So I guess Rachael is not that unusual!

Thursday, February 26, 2009

A Happy Birthday

I can’t believe that Rachael is twenty. It was only a few months ago that she was a tiny infant – and as you can see, an adorable infant. Her birthday was during Great Music, so we celebrated a few days late. Rebecca cooked a fabulous dinner, and the guests (the Aunties and Lillian) didn’t even notice that it was vegan. Everyone behaved well, somewhat to the disappointment of Rebecca and me. We always enjoy little contretemps as long as we are observers and not personally involved. Then we have fodder for happy reminiscences and gossip later on. One year we speculated at length who would be the one to spill wine on the tablecloth, and decided who it would most be the most likely offender. Then about two minutes into the meal, Rebecca knocked over her wine glass while dishing out the food. We both collapsed into laughter, but dared not tell anyone what was so funny about spilled wine. Are we not evil? I think perhaps yes.
Here Rachael is in her Edward Hopper hat, purchased at the exhibit noted below. She prefers to think of it as her Edna St. Vincent Millay hat. Très chic, n’est-ce pas?