Happy Birthday to Me

John Lennon's song, "Happy Xmas (War is Over)," has been going through my head all morning, except that the lyrics in my head, rather than "and so this is Christmas," are, "and So It's Your Birthday." I don't know why. Well, I do know that it's my birthday, but I don't know where the connection was made between that and that particular song. The brain, particularly my brain, is a strange thing . . .

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I rejuggled my wordcount goals for the week. We're leaving on vacation next Saturday, so I have to have the novel finished by the 29th so I can upload it for validation. In order to accomplish that, I have to write about 2,000 words every day from now until Friday. I'm about halfway there for today, but I just got up to make myself some mushroom soup for my lunch, and a little while ago I went down to the basement to bring up a Christmas wreath for the front door, and I spent some time down there putting rolls of wrapping paper in a new storage bin I bought, and some more time trying (unsuccessfully) find the wreath hanger, so I guess in a little while I'll go out and buy a new one.

We're having Thanksgiving dinner at Bob's parents tonight, so we had planned to go out to dinner for my birthday last night. But we had both been out running errands yesterday (separately), and we were both pretty tired. I had come home and taken a bath, but when he got home I was still in my robe, and I said, "Why don't we just get Chinese or something tonight rather than going out," and once he confirmed that I didn't mind not going out, he said that sounded good.

So that's what we did. We called in an order and picked it up, and we stopped at the grocery store and he went in and bought me a little mini French Silk pie, and we had a nice quiet evening.

One of his errands had been to buy me birthday gifts, and he had come home with an elegant black giftbag filled with red tissue and inside, four little Yankee Candle jars, a red-headed "Angel of Comfort" Christmas ornament, a jar of Burt's Bees carrot cream, and a box of chocolates. And a single red rose.

So this morning, since it's my birthday, I had chocolates for breakfast, and I'm finishing up my lunch with a piece of pie. On a Winnie-the-Pooh birthday party paper plate, which was in the birthday package that Barb sent me last week. Not one paper plate, of course, but a whole package of them, along with cups and napkins. A birthday party in a box! There was also a microwavable wrap filled with lavender, and a box of Susan Seddon Boulet Goddess cards that are really wonderful. Goddesses and angels, some of my favorite things.

Guess I'd better get back to the writing. But first I've got to go put in another load of laundry . . .