Don’t flay the sheep.

Belated Birthday

A year ago today we brought Zora home from the hospital. This year, today being a Tuesday,  she and I are doing our own things for 24 hours—it’s her day with grandma.

We didn’t do much for her birthday. Our basement flooded (150 gallons!) the day before. While we were pretty much done dealing with the water the next day (not much you can do in an unfinished basement with floors that are gross to begin with other than suck up the water…), we had the rest of the house to clean. Our gift to Zora was floors that she could crawl on without getting covered with cat hair.

We took a walk. At one point, I thought the Fed Ex man was delivering two huge boxes for Zora, but it turns out they were for Erik (my first clue: the labels that said, “Do not deliver to persons under 21. Do not deliver to someone who is intoxicated.”), 30 beers for his 30th birthday (which was in June, but we don’t scorn deliveries of beer). Zora thought this was a pretty interesting gift, though.

My parents came, and we had burgers and cake and Zora “opened” presents.

But here’s my favorite birthday memory. Last night, Zora and I had a lovely dinner together. We were eating at grandma’s, no one else was there, and we had chicken and green beans and carrots and some creamy rice stuff. I think it might be the  first time when the two of us ate entirely the same meal. No high chair, so she sat on my lap, I put her frog bowl in front of us, and my plate and cup out of her reach. We were not particularly good at following the rules of etiquette. There was some food throwing and dropping, and I was putting forkfuls of food in my mouth directly above the head of my dinner companion. Also, one of us was dressed only in a diaper—that would be the one of us more prone to spilling, and YES, that one is Zora. It sort of felt like our first mother-daughter dinner date. It was nice.  I hope we’ll have dinner together more often.

Anti-Spread Campaign Update: Not much biking going on here, since the Fox River is HIGH and the bike paths are out.  But, some progress: 4807.4 mile to Rome.

I hear the Vatican in now sponsoring charter flights to pilgrimage sites. Good idea, but I think I’ll loose more weight this way.

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