I haven't come near the blogosphere the past couple days. As a matter of fact, I haven't been keeping up with the news, either. The Sunday paper is still sitting where I carelessly left it, and the only thing I did on the computer was upload photos.
It was my birthday this past weekend. I went to The City to see a film (bigger screen, better sound) and eat at a restaurant where I could look at the ocean. The next day I enjoyed Wine Country, going to a farmers market and getting killer heirloom tomatoes, taking pictures of vineyards and tasting. It was a nice weekend, and I selfishly did not think of the woes of the world once.
The funny thing about birthdays is that I can have a memory that says on this particular date so-and-so many years ago I was doing this. I usually have very nice birthdays, and that started when I was a child. My mother would enforce that it was your own special day.
When I was growing up my sisters and I had birthday parties
that were the hottest ticket in town. Because my dad worked at Disney (yes, I am a child of The Industry) we got to request what movie we wanted at our parties. Today, with DVD and VCR this is no big deal, but then to have a Disney film shown inside the house on a screen was huge. We played games, ate cake and ice cream, opened presents and by the time the show started all of the parents had a way of appearing. Ah, memories.
This year everyone was generous and thoughtful to me. Thanks.
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