An Unintentional Blog Vacation

Many comments have come my way about my infrequent posting of late. It is very flattering to be missed.

Some new curves have been thrown at me lately and as I navigate my way through them, I have had to let some other things slide. But not for long! The opinions have not stopped and I have many postings festering in my little brain.

If you care to check back in a couple of days, I should be back on track. In the meantime, I must celebrate a wonderful oldie's birthday (my father) and enjoy some of the birthday dessert prepared by his favorite oldie (my mother.) I get to crash the party just by being here.

A Steak and Some Rock & Roll

Today the birthday of two famous men. Rod Stewart turns 64 and he's still belting out the tunes. He's avoiding oldieville quite successfully. George Foreman turns 60 today. He's fathered approximately 120 children -- all of them named George -- while making tons of money as a boxer and then ultimately with the George Foreman Grill. (I think there are as many versions of the grill as he has children.)

I have seen Rod Stewart in concert so many times I have lost count. I still listen to him on my iPod. And of course, I love my George Foreman grill. In some small way, it's an example of how our lives touch each other.

Sibling Love and Respect

Today is Cecily Crossman's birthday. She is someone I fiercely love and admire with an almost stalker-like zeal. She is also my aunt -- my father's only living sibling. They are crazy about each other and their devotion is admirable on many levels.

As an only child, my experience with siblings is through observation and of course, the siblings I have chosen.

Anyone who thinks it is easier for two sisters to be close would learn quite a bit from the brother/sister duo above.

Happy birthday Aunt Cess and thanks for always being there for my dad.

The Cane

This photo was taken at our friend Mome's 90th birthday party. I'm sorry the oldies didn't get to have a 90th birthday.

On good days, the Belle did not need her cane. Toward the end, the Captain used a walker but we knew it was a good day when all he wanted was the cane. Just like their personalities, her cane was bright and festive. His was solid wood -- no flash.

Do you remember the end of the movie "Miracle on 34th Street?" Natalie Wood finds Kris Kringle's cane in the house he has directed her to see.

This morning I was in the garage and I looked up to see the Captain's cane propped against the wall. It has to have been there for at least eight months.

There are miracles everywhere and sometimes they are simple enough to jar you. I don't think the Captain/Unabomber/Hangdog was Kris Kringle. I do think I was reminded to spend some time thinking about him today.

Big Sal

My friend, Big Sal, was honored this weekend. Her husband and family threw her a big, splashing bash for her 60th birthday. 60 is the new 40 and she doesn't even look 40. As usual, I'm surrounded by freaks of nature -- and she's a natural beauty -- no Joan Rivers plan involved.

She's also crazy. She has crashed more cars than I can count. She put the wrong gas (regular instead of diesel) in her husband's company vehicle. She lost some diamond earrings and convinced that one of her dogs may have eaten them, she spent days checking their poop and having them x-rayed. I don't want to know what that cost.

On her actual birthday, she brought tiaras to the pool on Labor Day and girlfriends walked around with crowns. She is the accessory queen. We all got plastic tiaras but she found a great crown in a second hand store, complete with rhinestones. She also provided boas. She is my shopping guru.

The husband and I showed up at the party, ready to salute our friend. We knew most people but I found it interesting that the first person we met at the top of the stairs was our governor.

She may giggle like a schoolgirl or make us all laugh. She's got friends in high places. Mostly, she shows me what it's like to embrace life, embrace friends and family, and show the rest of us how to balance dignity and abandon.

At the pool on Labor Day, Big Sal was flipping and diving off the board. I did too. (It's a rule that I have to do it at least once a year.)

Once I admired a jacket she was wearing. She gave it to me. She bought it at the Goodwill and she'll find another one.

We call her Big Sal although she is tiny. The "Big" part is a reflection of her spirit and her heart.

Bittersweet

Today is Jan's birthday! I hope she listens to Lynrd Skynrd. I hope she knows that she is one of the most treasured people in my life.

On her birthday eve, I was listening to music and the husband was trying to figure out chords on the piano. Time flew by and the next thing I knew, it was 11:15 or so. At night! (I am the Queen of early to bed, early to rise.) Then it became a mission -- I will stay awake until midnight so I can call Jan.

I have my own special ring tone on her phone. She always knows it's me. Here I'm thinking I'll just leave her a sweet birthday message but SHE SLEEPS WITH THE PHONE AT HER EAR! Instead of voicemail, I hear, "Hi Sheri, What's wrong? You never call me at midnight." I felt kind of stupid saying, "I just wanted to be the first one to wish you a happy birthday."

The bittersweet part is that today is also Patsy's birthday. I still miss her. It's one of those aches that will never go away, although the pain has changed from stabbing to a dull throb.

The photo above was taken at the beginning of my sophomore year of college. We're not discussing how many years ago that was. We're upbeat. It's our birthday week.

Three People -- One Special Day

I'm very possessive so I like to use "my" a lot. My husband, my children, my parents, my oldies, my work, my friends, my dog. I try not to do that in this blog but here is an exception. Three of my favorite people share a birthday. And they are MY people.

I used to be good with cards but now people are lucky to get a phone call. Time gets away from me but I did wake up yesterday knowing it was a special day. (This was after I chased down oldies and dealt with the car in the mailbox.)

So, I wish greetings to these three people:

My Aunt Cess: I look like you and we share the little people syndrome. I have your passion for writing. I need the guidance you provide. I think we have the same wacky sense of humor. Plus, you provided me with some really great cousins.

My Emily: I held you when you were born. I will always be here for you as long as I live. I will hold you in my heart forever.

My Cary: You are a princess and I say, "Work it girl!" Let me know if I can help. I've had a few princess moments myself.

So, it's a day late but I salute these three amazing women. To borrow a phrase from my mother, I'm extremely grateful they were born.

Puppy Becomes Dog

Today is the puppy's birthday. No one cares but me. When I woke her up, I was singing, "They say it's your birthday. We're going to have a good time." Yes, I was cracking myself up.

She will no longer be referred to as "the puppy." She's graduated. From this day forward, she will just be Gabby.

As you might recall, the husband did not want another dog. As usual, I tried to abide by his wishes but ultimately, I did it anyway. She is a maniac and I don't care. I fell in love with her immediately and she makes me smile (or grimace) every day.

Our old dog was Holly -- her formal name was Roman Holiday. When the baby was little, I took him with me to pick her up from being spayed. The vet's office called back to the surgery center and said, "Would you please bring Holly Roman to the front?" The baby got a little attitude and said, "Her name is Roman Holiday!" He was 4.

When I first met our puppy, she was quite chatty with her litter mates. I had been toying with dog names in my mind. Then I met her and said, "She's quite gabby."

Big Daddy made it more formal and named her "Roman Gabrielle." (Not after the football player.) He pretends not to like her but he spends an inordinate amount of time with her. I get annoyed that she listens and obeys him. If he plays the piano, she gets a squeaky toy and plays along. He fakes nonchalance but I can see that he enjoys it. He thinks I let her walk all over me -- literally and figuratively. He's right.

There's a dog bakery near my house. It's slightly ridiculous and wildly expensive. I don't care. Big Daddy's out of town and the puppy became a dog today. I'm going there and get her a treat. If I get really crazy, I might put a candle in the puppy cupcake and sing Happy Birthday.