Birthday blog.

Here - tonight I'll let the photos do most of the talking.

Spring flower (but, actually, it blossomed before spring started, so it's really a winter flower, but still, a flower! Color! Warmth! Growth!)

Birthday friends

Birthday cake

Birthday hike

Birthday girls

Birthday party (with more birthday cake!)

So, that's the pictorial update. The other update is that I am growing tired and weary of my blog. It's the same old stuff. I use a lot of exclamation points, I use a lot of colloquialisms and turns of phrase and a lot of run-on sentences, I throw in a deep and meaningful, thoughtful post every once in a while, and I paint the picture that this is me and this is my life. Well, I suppose it is, in a way. This is part of me. Some of me. What you see and read in this blog. But it's not enough to satisfy me these days. Based on those photos above you'd think that this past week/weekend my life was great. And much of it was; the part that's portrayed on the blog. But then there were the two nights that I was tossing and turning and thinking about curling up in a little ball in the corner of my bedroom, over near the coat rack with the mounds of fuzz and dust-bunnies, because my stomach was so uncomfortable. And then there were the fights that I was having with Doug, both out loud and in my head. And then there was the funeral for Doug's grandfather. And then there were all the messages of Happy Birthday! for me on facebook, the vast majority from people I haven't actually spoken to in about fourteen years. So, you know. There's all of that stuff that doesn't make it onto my blog. It could, and sometimes it does, but when it does I feel so boring and old and washed up, and I feel like the look of those two deep lines in my forehead that you can so plainly see in the birthday girls photo above. I guess I feel wrinkled. I don't want to feel wrinkled, so most times I post about the good stuff, and thankfully there's enough good stuff to post about, to keep this blog going. But today I wonder if I even want to keep the blog going. I do because of posterity. I do because of the historical record it keeps. But I also don't because of the historical record it keeps, the record of that slice of me that I frequently tire of. Maybe I'm just tired from all my birthday celebrating, and maybe I'm just too full from all the cake I've been eating, but I certainly don't feel much motivation these days to keep this thing going. I'm ready for a really big dose of sunshine and fresh air; I'm hoping that will revive me, because it's going to be a long, long year if it doesn't.

And we're off!

This past weekend marked the beginning of the whirlwind that's become the holiday season. It begins each year with Doug's birthday celebration (though it's unfortunate that his birthday has become lumped in with the holidays) and it ends with the trip back from Connecticut and the unpacking of all the stuff that we acquire while there.

To kick things off, Doug celebrated his 34th birthday in true adult style - working and eating take-out from PF Chang's. He had to work on a release until about 10pm (you'll see that in the background in the photo below), but we managed to squeeze in some excitement with a quirky animal card. This year it was squirrels (the cat cards took a break this year). Squirrels scream excitement.

Then I continued the celebration with a chocolate bachelorette brunch on Saturday in honor of the very near end of Marieke's single status. In only nine days Marieke and Curt will be married, and we marked this occasion in style at Cafe Fleuri, stuffing ourselves silly with chocolate. This was my (first) plate of sweetness. Isn't it just beautiful? Marieke topped hers off with a giant cotton candy drumstick, and as the bride she was allowed to do that, but I stuck with the chocolate. I told Marieke that we should celebrate the anniversary of her bachelorette each year at the chocolate brunch - I'd just need a week's notice so that I could fast appropriately before all that indulging.

So, sweetness on Saturday and then sweetness on Sunday, but of a different variety. On Sunday we went up to Maine to celebrate birthdays and Christmas with all of our favorite Mainers. We saw our new Falmouth contingent, Julie and Brian, and got to see their great house (I can definitely see why they chose to rent there). We also saw our Portland contingent. Ruby was a jolly little elf that day, full of smiles and babbles. She enjoyed the blocks that Santa Doug and Rosanne brought to her, at first giving them careful study but then quickly realizing that it's more fun to eat them. If that block were chocolate I would have been right there with you, Miss Ruby!

And now all we have to do is get through this week. Tonight I'm sewing Christmas presents, and then tomorrow I'm wrapping, Wednesday I'm wrapping, Thursday I'm packing and baking cookies, and then early Friday morning we're off for forty-eight hours of Connecticut Christmas. Ah, the holidays - the most crazy (but wonderful) time of year.

Bon-Bon watching: round three

First, let me say that I really like my new job. A lot. Granted I'm now in the thick of a pretty major story coming out of my library (for the record, the urine was actually spilled, and if you are a stickler for language like me you will understand that there's a pretty big - really big - difference between pouring and spilling; we are going to lengths to have this corrected both in the media and in the official incident report), but that only seems to somehow add to the excitement of each day. The people are great, the work is interesting, I really like being around the books and the learning, and I have to admit that I really like being in Harvard Square and actually having a sane-enough schedule where I can go out to one of the many great little places to eat for lunch each day. Who knew there could be a life like this?

And then let me say that part of me hopes that my niece, Maria, does not dance in Albano's Nutcracker next year - the snobby part of me that doesn't like going to ballets in sports arenas and watching the kids in the audience wave around their fiber-optic souvenir swords. Of course, there's also the loving aunt in me who finds it a great way to spend my afternoon, watching my niece dance around stage during the Bon Bon scene. Just don't ask me which Bon Bon she is. I was convinced she was one of the Bon Bons on the left, but turns out she was one of the ones on the right. Minus one for Aunt Rosanne!

But not minus one for everyone in the family celebrating a December birthday. After the Nutcracker we all headed back to my sister's family's house for some (amazingly delicious) dinner and cake to celebrate Maria's performance and also her birthday, my sister's mother-in-law's birthday, Doug's birthday, and Rose's birthday. Rose is the dog, and even she was in the group photo. Everyone seems to call the dog Rosie and that's what my parents used to call me as a kid (my father still does). I am still not able to not react when someone calls out, "Rosie!" I even somehow snap to attention when someone says, "Rosie, bad dog!" I don't know what this means.

I do know what it means for Doug to be in the above photo, though. It means that his birthday is coming up. In about a few hours, actually. Tomorrow Doug turns 34. Does he look 34? Hardly. Even though the mustache makes him look to me more adult and sophisticated than his beard did (In his beard he looked to me like a cuddly grizzly, especially when it got bushy. But with his mustache he's much more used-car-salesman, and don't ask me why this is an image of sophistication for me.), I still don't think of my husband as 34. I think of us as ageless, actually. I see photos of us when we were younger, like when we first met (We met twelve years ago! Can you believe that?), and it seems like yesterday. I believe those lines about age being a state of mind only. If you don't think about how old you are, you won't feel old. I hope Doug doesn't feel old. To me he's still the guy who sticks carrots up his nose at dinner. Happy birthday, Stinker!

Playing Catch-Up.

I'm going to try to play catch-up with this post. I'm going to try to cram in all that happened in the last couple of weeks. That's going to be hard to do, since there has been a lot going on, and one of the most important things that has been going on deserves a post of its own. So okay, I've just decided that I'll leave that bit out and save it for later, but I've still got about a million things to blog about, so let's get going.

1. Our friend from our genealogical days, Chris Child, turned thirty earlier in the month. We went to his 30th birthday party. I don't know how we did this, but we managed to only take photos of Chris's back the whole night. Like this one (he's the one in the hat): We wanted to capture on film his necklace. It was this giant "gold" cross with a lot of fake diamonds in it. If it were real it would have weighed about 10 pounds, because it was huge. But it was fake, and it was so homeboy over-the-top that it was so worthy of a photo. Next time Chris turns 30 we'll take a picture of his face (and the chain).

We did manage to have our photo taken, though. It's a good one, and because Doug and I rarely a)have someone take a photo of us and b)take a good photo, I want to share it with you. I also want to share with you a photo of the birthday card that we almost got Chris but didn't. Chris is not really a cat person, so we didn't think he'd find this card as roll-on-the-floor funny as we did (we nearly got ourselves kicked out of CVS for making a scene, I think), but wow. Look at those heads! On those tiny human bodies - in suits! Speaking that business-speak! And look at the litter box! Maybe you had to be there to get the full impact, but this one had us busting a gut.

2. La Bayadère, however, was not a roll-on-the-floor-laughing kind of event. Doug and I were given a couple of tickets from our very good and frugal friends to see the Boston Ballet's performance of La Bayadère, which was very appropriate, given that I had just come back from India. The India in the ballet is nothing like the India I saw, though. This was exotic India with women dressed like "I Dream of Genie" and some men barely dressed at all. The India of stereotypes and fantastical history books. It was a good story, of love and betrayal and all of that, but I decided in this ballet that ballets are set up all wrong. This is the second ballet I've gone to in recent memory where I've slept through a good part of the second act and have felt that the third act is gratuitous. The dancing is always very good in the third act, but it seems tacked on, and has little to do with the actual plot or action of the story. I would put the third act of ballets where the second act is, and move the second act last. That way those of us who nap during these epic events can miss little of the plot and can wake up to an act with more meaning. I wouldn't change the ambiance of the theaters, though. The Boston Opera House, where the Boston Ballet now performs, is incredibly designed.

3. We have been doing a lot of housework. We raked up all of our leaves (over several weekends) and produced a massive amount of leaf bags, yet again. Here's one of this year's batches: And then we waterproofed our back steps. We were supposed to have done this a long time ago, back when the back steps were redone in June, but we never did. The waterproofing solution was made for application in temperatures between 50 and 90 degrees F, and we applied our weatherproofer on a 51 degree day. Hmmm. Maybe that's why the steps look like they do. And maybe that's why Doug's so sad. Because that white film that you see? It hasn't really gone away yet. It fades, but then if the weather is damp or humid or rainy the steps turn bright white again. And slick. Guess that means we successfully weatherproofed them, but it also means that we now have white-washed back steps. Don't let our mason see that.

Wow. Okay. There's a lot more to write about. A lot. Like the changing of our phone/cable/internet service, our trip to Sturbridge Village, Doug's activism in the fight for men's health issues, our massive redecorating project, and, of course, the story of my employment. But all of that has to wait. I'm tired. And I am going to go cook dinner. Because it's 6pm and I'm hungry and Doug will be home soon and because I don't want to eat too late. Because I don't have to eat late tonight. Or tomorrow night. Or any night for the next week and a half. Because I'm on vacation (because of that employment thing I should tell you about). And when I'm on vacation I don't have to do anything that I don't want to do, and I don't want to blog anymore. My eyes hurt from staring at the computer screen. Man is it easy to get used to not using this thing! It's only been four days but already I feel a sense of freedom. A sense of disconnected-ness. I love it.

At least it's warm in here.

I'm procrastinating. I admit it. I don't really have anything to write about, but since I don't feel like actually doing all of the things that I have to do today (since the vast majority of it is work-related), I'll spend a bit of time blogging instead. Plus the time change is throwing me off. I went to the grocery store this morning and the digital clock in the car is wrong - still telling me it's one hour later than it actually is. I based my whole schedule around that time, and now that I'm home and all the clocks that are correct are telling me the correct time I'm having such a hard time adjusting. It was one time in the car and now it's another time in my house and I can't function. But what is time, anyway? Why does it matter so much to me? Why can't I adjust? Yes. Anyway.

Friday night we played trivia at the Old State House. We made some new friends, two very capable and enthusiastic trivia players, and caught up with some old friends. Doug was excited about answering the "name three actors who played James Bond" question correctly. I knew the one about Henry James. Team Huzzah came in fourth, and when there's another trivia night we plan to go and do better. Maybe we'll become competitive trivia players (we may have to actually know the answers to more than the more obvious questions, though, and that could be a problem).

Yesterday my mother visited and we did some shopping, because that's what my mother and my sister and I do best when we're together. My mother bought a futon and I bought a lamp. We both bought some shoes. But can I say that I'm tired of stuff? My mother and I were talking about how we needed none of what we purchased. None of it. Don't even know if we really even wanted it. We are just doing our American duty and shopping. And I'm a little tired of it. I should have been reading instead, and then maybe I would do better at trivia night the next time out. New Danskos aren't going to help me know who sat on the British throne when the Old State House was built.

And now today I can't focus. Can't concentrate. I'm supposed to be doing work (for work) and I will, but I haven't been able to focus yet. I even started to think about how I should be outside raking my leaves. Look at the sea of leaves in my backyard: You can't even see the grass - there are that many leaves. But then look at all the leaves that are left on just one of the many trees in our yard: How can I go out there and spend my time raking when half the tree has yet to shed? This is when I start thinking to myself that we should have bought a condo. But if we had bought a condo, how would I spend my time procrastinating? Thinking about why the condo company doesn't get someone to come and rake up all the leaves?

I really should go and do some work. It might be time now, because I'm getting a little tired of myself. I know what would have been a great way to procrastinate, though - going to Maine to wish little Ruby a happy first birthday. Ruby's one! I can't believe it. She's such a cute girl, and we don't see her nearly enough. I mean, not even remotely nearly enough. We don't see my nieces and nephew even remotely nearly enough, either. What is it with us and neglecting the people we care most about? Why is it that we do that? How come we're not in Maine celebrating Ruby's birth like we were last year at this time? Life gets in the way, but we promise not for long. Even life can't keep us away from this little bundle.

Lebron to the Heat and other non-news.

I have retreated to the office for two reasons. Reason one: There's a nice ceiling fan in here, and fewer wads of cat hair floating around in the breeze. Reason two: I just watched a bit of the Lebron James show on ESPN, where he announced to the world on a nationally televised prime-time special that he was signing a contract with the Miami Heat, and I could no longer take that nonsense. I had to leave the TV. The whole thing was some kind of major production, and for what? For a basketball player who ultimately wanted to win and win now rather than stick by his loyal teammates and fans in Cleveland. So good-bye, Lebron. I'd rather spend time relaying the tiny details of my life than listen to your blathering.

So, tiny detail un: We're still missing Wyatt, of course, but I think we've moved past the darkest of times. We're able to talk about him without getting teary, and we're able to get back into "normal mode," meaning sitting on the couch, making dinner, watching TV, going to bed and waking up in the morning, without being constantly reminded of how we would do all of those things with him. At least I am. I think what's helping me is seeing him. He's my desktop wallpaper at work, and so I can look at him all day and think good thoughts about him. I'm not the type of griever who wants to rid herself of every memory of the past because the memories are too painful to bear. I like to be reminded of the memories, especially the good ones, and I think photos help with that. This means that I actually like being at work and looking at my computer screen. This could actually be a problem :)

Tiny detail deux: The day after we put Wyatt down I learned that my great-aunt Madeline passed away. She was 96, she had congestive heart failure, and she was tired of struggling, so it was not a surprise, but it's hard nonetheless, mostly because this leaves only one remaining Shea, down from the six who lived in the big, white Colonial across the yard and with whom I grew up. Tomorrow is her funeral. We're going down for it, of course, but being that we're still out of sorts because of Wyatt and being that it's going to be hard to see my 94 year-old great aunt Anna in that big house all by herself, it's not going to be the most pleasant of visits. This is what life is about, though. Dealing with the bad stuff, but trying to see the good. Like that we still have one remaining Shea and that we get to see her again tomorrow. This is a good thing.

Tiny detail trois: Doug and I are done with our fence project! We finished this past weekend with the help of my mother and Aunt Alice, two incredible troopers who came up on Friday and spent the day at our house painting the fence while Doug and I were at work. I got out a little early that day to help with the last bit of the fence, Doug too, and by 7pm we were officially done. What a project! Now I know why Tom Sawyer tricked his friends into painting the fence for him. If I had gullible friends I might have tried the same thing.

Anyway, I know I've posted about the fence before, but here's a brief recap. We had this old, rotten fence in our front yard, and several windstorms and blizzards (and, of course, the elderly neighbor who drove into it) brought it to its end. I was not sorry to see the original fence go, and even helped along its demise a little. So in May we had a new fence put in. A cedar fence with no finish or stain, because having the fence company paint it for us would have added more to the cost than we wanted to spend. We decided that we'd paint the fence ourselves, and requested the help of my mother and brother. After much discussion, we also decided that we'd stain the fence a natural cedar color, which reminds us of the log cabin my uncle owns in New Hampshire. We figured we'd have the whole fence painted with two coats in one weekend. That was an ambitious goal, a little too ambitious, but we tried. We prepped the fence and put on the first coat of stain in one day, but we couldn't do much work on it the next day because a) the first coat hadn't dried yet, and b) we had birthdays to celebrate. My father, sister, brother, and nephew all have June birthdays, so we decided to have a gathering to celebrate. Here are most of the birthday-ers: And here is the birthday cake: Wish I could say that I made that cake myself, but no - I give all the credit to the Stop & Shop bakery (and highly recommend it!).

So, with the birthdays properly celebrated, we could then think about finishing the fence, which, as mentioned, my mother and aunt so kindly helped us with the following Friday. In addition to putting the second coat of stain on the fence that day, we were also very productive with the garden. The front gardens were basically all weeds. Notice in this photo how green and overgrown everything was in the front near the fence: We thinned things out nicely up in the upper right corner of the yard, and it looks quite nice, especially with the painted fence. Now we just have to mulch it. And then water it. And weed it. Maybe that's what I should have done to protest the Lebron hype. Spent my night in the garden. Since it's now cooler outside than it is inside, that would have been a smart move!

Friday night lights.

I left work early today. Like, really early. I took the 4pm train home. And the sun was shining and the weather was nice, so I decided to forgo the gym and just jog/walk around my neighborhood. It was much nicer doing that than going to the stuffy, crowded gym. I'm glad I made that decision.

One decision that may not make me so glad is my decision to embark on a a homeopathic treatment, because I can no longer indulge in my decaf iced coffees every once in a while, wear perfume, or have mint (or menthol, eucalyptus, and there's probably other things, too). The mint thing includes minty gum, toothpaste, mouthwash, minty ice cream (including peppermint stick!!)... you know, all the things that I love. This is a huge sacrifice for me. Huge. There are some homeopaths who say that you don't have to give up coffee, or perfume, or mint, or that you can do them all in a much more limited and controlled fashion, but mine suggests giving them all up completely, especially when you're starting your treatment, since you don't know how your body is going to react to the remedy. So tonight, when I went to the grocery store and was reaching for the jug of mint tea, I had to stop and remind myself that I couldn't have that kind. And when I pushed the cart past the gum aisle it reminded me that I had to get non-minty gum, because that's all that I had at home. I will now chew bubblegum flavored gum, and cinnamon flavored gum, but not bubblemint or cinnamint, and I will brush my teeth with lemon toothpaste laced with anise oil. The anise oil does leave my mouth feeling surprisingly refreshed, but that feeling is nowhere near as lasting as it was when I used my super-minty toothpaste with mint-blasters. The things I do, all in the desire for a better quality of life! Seriously.

But here's something that gives me a better quality of life, and I don't have to give up anything for it: Yes, I am wearing a down comforter and holding two citrus-y soaps, thanks to Chris and Chris and Ruby. I've always liked the basic idea of the Snuggie, but didn't like the idea of having it be a blanket and open in the back. And I guess I could have pined for a regular bathrobe, but they're just not warm enough. This down housecoat, though, this fits the bill, especially more so because it has a fashionable Asian design. I highly endorse the product. You can buy your very own here.

I also highly endorse having freshly-cut flowers in your house at all times. We don't have them here nearly often enough, but when we do we all love them. All of us. Even the furry ones. These flowers were intended to be my birthday treat, but they ended up being Meg's birthday treat, too. Which was fine, actually, because on March 25th it was Meggie's 7th birthday. We now have had her for seven years! Seven wonderful, fur-filled, sleepless years. Thank you, Meg, for adding such joy to our lives, and for not completely killing the flowers. We can now see them opened and vibrant and placed on higher ground where the cats haven't been tempted to roam.

And now I am off to brush with my Homeodent, and then hop in bed to watch what I can of Benjamin Button before I oh-so-unfortunately fall asleep. If I make an attempt to watch the movie but don't get all the way through due to no fault of my own, then I can without guilt send the movie back to Netflix and await the arrival of... Ghost Town? New weekend chore - reshuffle queue.

Welcome to my thirties.

I celebrated my thirty-first birthday this weekend. Thirty-one has been good to me so far. Pre-birthday celebrations had me eating a brownie for dinner, and then on my birthday we went to the movies to see Greenberg, had dinner at Isabella, and then came home and had a fantastically delicious birthday ice cream cake (which reminds me, I have some left! I can have some tonight! Score!). Saturday saw me get to the tailor to have some much needed hemming done, and then we ambled down the state into Rhode Island and ended up eating on Federal Hill at Constantino's. Our meals were quite fine - rivaling anything I've eaten in the North End - and Doug and I plan to get back down there at some point to try another dining option. Or even to eat at Constantino's again. My ravioli had beets in their filling. Beets! This was one time I was happy when leaving a restaurant feeling overstuffed and sick.

And then we saw Chris and Chris and Ruby. We hung out at their place and caught up on life, really one of the highlights of my birthday celebrations. Chris and Chris always apologize for talking about Ruby a lot when we're there, but it's not like Doug and I mind. We are happy to talk about her, look at her, hold her, be around her. Look at her! You'd have to be a heartless Grinch indeed to not enjoy every second around this happy family. Chris and Chris are doing a great job at keeping Ruby happy and healthy (and awed) and leaving their warm, cheery house is always so hard. We always end up leaving later than planned. If only there were a way to make the distance a little shorter.

I'd also like to find a way to make The Curious Case of Benjamin Button a little shorter, too. It's been sitting on our TV stand for about three weeks now, waiting to be watched. I tell myself it's because I don't have two hours and forty-five minutes to devote to it, but it's probably also because I don't have the desire to watch Brad Pitt in that wrinkly old-man-baby body. Or to watch Brad Pitt at all. I admit to really liking his performance in Inglourious Basterds, and now that I think of it, he was pretty decent in the Ocean's movies, but I have a bias against him. It's because of Angie. I'm not her biggest fan at all, so I think I have turned my brain off to Brad Pitt, too. They're pretty much the same person now, anyway, right? But why do I think that? And this makes me wonder - do people think of me and Doug as the same person now, too? I know we have the same glasses, but we are different. Just ask Ruby. Doug makes Ruby coo with glee just by looking at her, and while I don't make Ruby cry, I am certainly not as entertaining as Doug. This could be a good thing, though. This means that I might be able to spend the rest of my thirties as my own person, developing my own self, and then turn into Doug once my forties hit. Something to look forward to, indeed (unlike Benjamin Button, which I go to now so slowly and reluctantly...).

Living for weekends.

I've decided that I live for weekends. Even the hectic nature of them seems easier to handle because... they're weekends. Friday night through Sunday night is our time to live.

This weekend we were still celebrating Doug's birthday (because even if one's actual birthday isn't much of a big deal around here, we try to spread out the birthday cheer a bit and keep the celebration open for a week or so to make up for it), and on Friday night we headed out to The Comedy Studio to have some laughs. We were joined by a great group of friends, whom we do not see often enough for sure, but who we were very glad to have had the pleasure to see that night. Curt and Marieke joined us as did Chris and Arlene Julie and Michael (whom I realize I still call Mike, and I hope he doesn't mind since now he goes mostly by Michael) Andy and Sarah and Chris and Leigh (of whom I unfortunately do not have a photo - my apologies!). Not only did Doug get great gifts from the aforementioned great friends, but he got to eat really disgusting Chinese food (a real treat for him for some reason) and was even called on stage during one of the comedy acts to be a stand-in President Obama. Seems like one of the comics there that night is giving a routine at some awards assembly in Washington D.C. in January and wanted to have someone come on stage and pretend to be Obama. Why this was necessary was beyond me, since all Doug did was sit on a stool in the background, and who knows if the comic is actually giving said routine in January, but at least Doug got to do a little performing on stage that night, complete with a round of audience applause.If the President's job is to sit on stage during somewhat bland comedy routines, smile and look interested, then I think Doug should be a shoe-in for the position. Vote for Doug!

On Saturday, to continue with the birthday celebrations (but also to see our good friends again and exchange Christmas gifties), we headed up to Maine. All is going so well in Maine, it seems. Stu and Lu are enjoying spending time with each other and Chris and Chris are getting lots of exercise walking their little bundle of cuteness around the house to try to lull her out of fussy periods and into peaceful slumber. Doug and I tried our hand at keeping Ruby entertained. Doug was pretty good at it: He's got these baby bouncing skills that neither one of us knew he had, and was eager to hold the baby. But who wouldn't be eager to hold her? She is truly adorable. Wiggly, warm, so good-natured... I mean, despite the fact that she really didn't sleep at all while we were there, she didn't scream at all and we never really heard a peep out of her. I'm sure there are times when she's not quite that angelic, but from what we could tell Chris and Chris are pros at the parenting already, and Ruby is one star of a baby.

I wish I had taken more photos of the new family, but I was a little asleep at the switch yesterday. I did get two pretty good shots with Ruby in them - I love girl Chris's facial expression in this one, especially in relation to Ruby's (someday Ruby will pose for the camera, too!): And this one is great - Chris and Chris gave Doug a T-shirt for his birthday; it says "I heart my Mini." Here, though, it says something along the lines of "I heart Ruby", which is very apropros! I am always very impressed with how warm and inviting Chris and Chris have made their home, and now with Ruby it's even more so. It's hard to make that trek back to Dedham after spending time there, so we hope not to let too much time pass between visits.

And now, Sunday... on to shoveling, as this was the view through the front door this morning: Weekends are definitely fun times.

Bedside birthday.

I went to bed last night in a pretty lousy mood and woke up today feeling just as lousy - my shoulders and heart very heavy with guilt for doing virtually nothing for Doug's birthday. It's not like one turns thirty-three every day. It should be celebrated, and it was woefully so not celebrated here in Dedham. Doug did get a gift to open from me (one that Wyatt loved gnawing on... it's ribbon time, one of Wyatt's favorite times of year - hours of fun with the how-much-cat-phlegm-can-the-ribbon-bring-up-out-of-Wyatt's-throat? game.), but it was a new pair of jeans, a new sweater, and a gift card. Useful and definitely nice, but not exciting.

So, to make up for being such a lame wife, I decided to do something a little more interesting tonight. I didn't go to Doug's show because I was at work doing the budget, but when I finally got home I did get into the car, stick the strange little key into the ignition, and press the start button to go out and grab something quick with which to celebrate Doug's special day. (And can I share how odd it is to be able to get into the car and go somewhere, on my own, without Doug having to be around to let me use the car? So freeing! And still so odd. What is this new life that I'm leading?) I picked up a cake at Whole Foods, a big Belgian beer with a ghost on the label, an iced tea, and a balloon. Because I know he won't be home from the show for at least another hour or so, I figured the best place to put these surprises would be on his bedside table... that way I'm guaranteed to be near him when he notices that, indeed, I did remember his birthday and do care enough to try to make it a little more special than a regular day. Plus, Wyatt's up there on the bed now, keeping Doug's gifts from yesterday warm. Maybe if he sees the peanut butter mousse cake, the drinks, the balloon, and the cute little mop of a cat all at once he'll forgive me for being so dull and preoccupied. Here's hoping!

Happy birthday, Stinks - hope you know I love you.