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| Me when I was cute. |
I had a great birthday.
It started with being allowed to sleep late, till 9:30. I've been suffering from insomnia lately, so sleeping late was a sweet indulgence. On a normal day, despite my insomnia, I'm up at 6:40 to drive Nigel to the train station, but Nigel's group at work has started working at home on Thursdays, which -- hooray for me! -- coincided with my birthday.
So my day started with me stumbling downstairs into the kitchen, still a bit bleary-eyed, searching for coffee. What do I see but a card and a packet of chocolates waiting for me on the kitchen table. Fran's salted caramels, my favorite. Fran's is a Seattle institution.
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| My birthday breakfast (the Network World mug is a relic of my former life as an editor) |
The card was perfect.
Not flowery and sentimental and overdone. Just simple wishes for a simple day. Which is just what I had.
What did I do on my birthday?
Did laundry. Cleaned the refrigerator (Ugh! It needed it). Cleaned the oven (It's self-cleaning, so all I had to do really was press some buttons and wipe the ash off at the end). Washed some dishes, and thoroughly scoured the kitchen sink when I was done. Went out in the garage to check on my latest projects. Wandered around the intarwebs (wasted time on Pinterest). Went out in the early afternoon with Nigel for a latte and a blueberry scone. Read a book (Blood Harvest by S.J. Bolton).
When I was young I would have been astounded if someone had told me that a perfect day for me would be one spent indulging in blissful domesticity. I thought finding enjoyment in housekeeping was a betrayal of my feminist principles (it isn't).
In the evening Nigel and I went out to a local restaurant called HG Bistro for a lovely meal.
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| Please forgive the bad cell phone photography. |
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| My dinner companion |
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| Me |
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| Our appetizer, crostini with Brie and smoked pork with cole slaw and balsamic reduction |
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| My entree, lamb chops (medium rare) with bean and lentil ragout |
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| Dessert, lemon lava cake (so good!) |
Now, while I type up this blog post, Nigel is downstairs playing a video game. There is one last load of laundry waiting to be put away. And I'm hoping the "peaceful dreams to end the day" are in my future.
Happiness is a clean kitchen sink and a good night's sleep.