one more year

One more year and after the harsh reality of late, it is not to be taken for granted.

I love having a Guy Fawkes birthday--I can pretend the fireworks are all for me. Saturday night we made a nice picnic of warm and toasty roast chicken sandwiches and a salad, bundled up, and headed down to the beach to watch Wellington's big display. Good show. I was amazed at how well we could see from so far across the harbour. Afterwards we just sat and watched all the hundreds (possibly a slight over-estimation) of private displays scattered around the hills.

We saw a hedgehog on the way down too. Cute.

I got so much mail this year. It was a nice treat. Many letters and gifts from friends and family. My parents sent a humongous care package that was en route for about six weeks and it arrived in perfect time for the big day. How lucky! My sister left a gift for me way back in June. It was all wrapped and tucked away in a closet. How organized!

And on Saturday I received some Reese's Cups in the mail from a scrapbooker who read a while back that I love them. Is that kind or what?

On Sunday after opening too many gifts, we headed to the carnival in our village. Fun fun. Ate a lot. Jeremy made a nice gumbo for dinner and a strawberry cheesecake for dessert. Seems like the weekend was defined by "what are we eating next?"

On Saturday morning we did some much-needed clean-up in and around the house. Jeremy got all the summer veggies in the ground. Very productive few hours. There's still plenty to do, but it was nice to spend the rest of the weekend relaxing guilt-free in an orderly house. It was also nice to see Jeremy do so little work work over the weekend--it was great for him to chill a bit.

What did I ask Jeremy for this year for my birthday? If a computer was out of the question, then family time & a clean house would be perfect. Really. And as evidenced above, these wishes were granted. But he insisted that if he didn't get me anything more concrete, I would not only hold it against him, I'd also tell my mom. Funny. My mom prefers to think that he just doesn't want to disappoint her rather than that he is scared of her. (OK, so I did tell my mom the story!) In the end, he got me a piece of the pottery that we are collecting. Very nice.

And now life has returned to what is now considered normal. The princess treatment gone for another year.