Last night wasn't anything special, at least not special in terms of what normal people do on their birthday. There were no no cocktails, parties, or candlelight dinners. However, on the weekend Franklin picked out a
nalgene water bottle for me...
"It's red! Mom! And you turn the cap like this! Mom! And you drink it like this! Mom!"
... and D practically
stole a wireless keyboard and mouse.
Yesterday was a normal day at work and then we all came home - where D surprised me with chocolate cupcakes lit up with candles...
... jube jubes! Mom! There's
THREE jube jubes on your cupcakes! Mom! I'll help to blow out your candles! Mom! Like this! Mom!
... and we ate dinner together. Then I ran off and left a sick D with bathing and putting Franklin to bed so I could be one of three in a meeting for the Urban Harvest Initiative, which is the group trying over and over and over again to get community garden plots set up for Hillside/Quadra residents.
Everyone has either left the project or is just about tapped out. The entire process has been dragging on for years and has been exhausting for all involved. I'm lucky (and unlucky) to be relatively new to the project. My enthusiasm had me leaving the meeting with about a dozen bigwig Victoria residents to contact for support.
I'm nervous, but excited. I'm not the kind of person that just boldly strides up to incredibly influential people and ask them to support my cause. However, I think I can get over my timidness for this.
When I got home I found a drained and half asleep D who was in no way ready to watch my period costume movie of the year (I seem to only get around to having the time to choose, rent and watch a movie once a year these days), Vanity Fair.
All in all, it was a good night.
It was an ordinary day with some extra special jubes jubes, dirt and apparently detectable levels of Bisphenol A thrown in.
Posted by Ada
Comments
Sounds like a pretty nice b-day. I got a similar bottle on my desk. I just drank some H2O and no bugs yet. Mine was free industry shwag in a borring smoke tint. Just tell those fat cats that your a friend of mine. That will confuse and panic them. By the time they figure out that they don't know me they've written the cheque!