Catching up

Tomorrow is my birthday! And really nobody has noticed. I mention it over and over and do get a few takers. Like Kate, my co-worker, who gave me one of her prized possessions, a book: O Ye Jigs & Juleps! by Virginia Cary Hudson, supposedly written in 1904 by a 10-year-old. I have my doubts. But it is still fun. Stay tuned for more later on the book.

Audrey rushed out and bought me a bottle of wine yesterday, which I surely appreciate. And will duly drink this weekend. Bob has something up his sleeve because he has suffered the consequences of ignoring my birthday already. Not a peep from my mom, who usually sends me a card a week in advance. Or my older sister, who never sends her cards on time. Or my younger sister, who I know loves me. Or my two brothers, one who used to send everybody cards but got tired of not getting cards in return, so it's understandable, and another who has bigger fish to fry with kids, grandkids, trips, cabins, and on and on.

I would like to point you to my birthday two years ago when my life was hanging in the limbs, and then to last year, which should have alerted me to what was to come.

But I am not bitter. I would rather be ignored than taking a dirt nap (as Val at work's father calls it).

And this is my quick whiny post and now I have other things to do. I hope you have a great day.

(I was going to catch you up on all I had been doing but I got lost in my own misery.)