Happy Birthday, Honey Bunny

We celebrated Honey Bunny  on Sunday, she having completed 366 days on earth (leap year gave her one more day before she turned one).

Her mom went all out on the theme. 

Honey Bunny wasn't that interested in the smash cake or the other guests of all ages or the bubble machine.  She did enjoy being held and walking while her hands were being held

and asking to be held. 

And that was fine.  After all,  she won't be this little for long. 

Happy Birthday, SIR

There are people you know you will like from the moment you lay eyes on them.  

There are people who bring out the best in others, without even trying.

There are people whose smile lights up a room, sharing the sunshine and joy with reckless abandon.  

There are people who play to a broad audience, comfortably enhancing any gathering.

There are life long learners, who know that the world has more to offer than they've seen so far, who are open to expanding their horizons, who happily admit what they don't know, as long as someone is there to explain it.

SIR is all of those people.  

His kids have a great example of how a husband should treat his wife, how a father should interact with his family.  Giblet's 1st Day of School statement says he wants to be Just Like Dad when he grows up.  That is a worthy goal.

Our daughter makes great decisions, especially when it came to picking a husband.  We are the luckiest in-laws in the world.

Happy Birthday, SIR!!  May all good things come your way, this year and every year to come.

 

And Then There Was This

Except that I couldn't. 

I tried, as I posted yesterday, but I wasn't allowed to create a boarding pass on line. So we waited in line behind humans who had never used a digital device before,  or so their actions suggested.  

We waited. We waited.  We laughed at the absurdity.  We snarled at the sign.  Then an agent motioned us to her station and in two minutes we were done.... until she stepped out from behind the counter and looked at our bags. 

Do you have carry ons?  I didn't pay up for the privilege of using the overhead bin; our bags fit under the seat in front of us.  She looked what she saw and wished us a pleasant flight. 

We were in Group 6, the last people to board.  The gate agent reminded us that our suitcases couldn't go overhead.... and she looked at each passenger's gear very closely as we checked in. 

I haven't felt like a second class person in a long time.  United did their best to remedy that situation today. 

A Very Short Rant

TBG asked if we had boarding passes.  

The email from United alerting me to my upcoming trip didn't have a link to boarding passes.

Turns out that if I'm not checking a bag I can't access a boarding pass anywhere but at a kiosk at the airport.  

Used to be that checking a bag required waiting in a long line for an attendant to assist you.  Now you can do all that from the comfort of your desk chair and simply drop off your bags when you arrive,

unlike those of us who are traveling light, for a 7am flight, who don't want to intersect with the world any more than absolutely necessary before sunrise, at least.  

Nope, for those of us trying to be as low maintenance as possible, there's one more step.  For my uber-anxious spouse, that's just one more thing that could possibly go wrong, one more thing for which we should add just a little more time, just in case.

Thanks to United Airlines, my 4:30am alarm is now set to 4:15.

Yawn.

The Women's Game

 I find myself obsessed 

with the long curls

and the Mouseketeer ears,

with the Olive Oyl

and the functional.

Long, 

blonde 

ponytails

abound.

Sometimes they are just that little bit of extra blonde

Oh, dear.

This started out to be more than a section of Seventeen Magazine, but, alas, that's what my fingers produced and what you've just read.  I feel that I ought to apologize.

Then, again, wasn't it fun?

A Lovely If Gloomy Day wonderful

The sun was out for an hour this morning.  I should have taken my walk then.  By the time I got through with waffles and eggs the clouds were sharing their bounty.  It went on all day long.

There was no checking on petunias in need of deadheading.  There was no smelling the lemon tree.  I could have worked on the cactus and succulent situation in the front courtyard, but the roof over the entry didn't keep out the cold.

It was mid-50's and raining.  That's yucky in any zip code, let alone one in an arid location.   

Every arthritic bone and joint in our bodies is rebelling.  Chopping vegetables was an exercise in mind over matter.  TBG's knees make melodious music when he stands up.  We're old and here to complain about it, and complain about it we will.

Once we got that ground rule established, the day unfolded in a series of serendipitous events.  We turned on basket ball games at just the right time to see the fabulous plays, one after another.  The women's game was beautiful basketball, the men's game had more amplitude and power.  As long as we didn't switch rapidly between genders the disconnect wasn't too jarring.

There were characters galore, and since we don't really have a rooting interest in any of the remaining teams, we enjoyed the excitement without the angst of true fandom.  It was a novel and delightful experience.

It being Easter Sunday, Turner Classic Movies was all Jesus all the time.  We tuned in to Richard Burton refusing to deny his Faith, then walking off to his death hand in hand with Jean Simmons.  They really knew how to make movies back then, with huge budgets and cinemascope and costumes that defy description. 

Next up was Easter Parade , the background to a video call with Queen T which turned into our own fashion parade of Honey Bunny dresses for spring.  It was a festival of florals and tulle and ruffles, a lovely offset to the grey, wet  outside my window.  

My Cousin Vinny kept me company as I made dinner.  I got no more use for this guy was where we tuned in and we couldn't leave until Marisa Tomei explained the difference between spontaneous and romantic.  We can recite the movie frame by frame.  We often applaud our performances; this afternoon was no exception.

TBG channel surfed us into Pretty Woman, which we watch as a fairy tale and not social commentary.  It is a wonderful fairy tale, with fabulous clothes and enough snark to make it one of our favorites, even with the cringe factor.   

With a spoonful of Baskin Robbins Chocolate Chip ice cream in hand, and Star Trek on the television, i reflected on the day.  I ran out to the grocery store and stood on the back patio for a minute or two, but otherwise I was inside all day long, visiting with old friends.  

It was a lovely, gloomy day.