My birthday box from a friend arrived days before my actual birthday.
Last year, I gifted myself several self-care items for my 51st birthday. This friend rounded out last year’s effort with gifts to help spiritually. Among the packet of information included, detailing the incense, pyramid crystal, and amulet was a personal letter about his personal spiritual journey.
My parents gifted me money, reflecting my new age.
Since moving back home, my family has shown me that not all people have joined me in not carrying cash. Two weeks after being gifted cash, it came in handy when I applied to get my NC license plate. When the employee told me the amount for the service, I pulled out my credit card as she said, “At least $5 must be paid in cash.” Although I gave her a surprised, questioning look, I didn’t bother asking any of the obvious questions, considering we’d been living in the upside down for the past few years.
The makings of a White Russian.
Mom had made “us” a pineapple coconut cake for our birthdays. Not that she’d asked me what type of cake I wanted. Nonetheless, when she told me that I could use the leftover heavy whipping cream for some recipe, I knew that I’d make us a liquid dessert in the form of a White Russian. The next day, after work, I went to the liquor store, known collectively as ABC stores, to buy the other ingredients. As a nod to Austin, I chose Tito’s.
Crude but effective cocktail shaker.
I’d either given away or packed away my cocktail mixing set, so this mason jar served that purpose. Honestly, when it comes to mason jars, one’s only as limited as one’s imaginations. I certainly wasn’t going to buy another hand mixing set, given all the stuff my parents already had.
We celebrated Mom and my birthday at a seafood restaurant.
I’d never eaten at this restaurant before, but both the decor and the food were wonderful. As a matter of fact, the only thing that was a disappointment turned out to be the birthday cake that they’d gifted us.
Mom blew out her candle first.
Since Mom and I were sitting directly across one another, we didn’t bother with taking a group pic of the two birthday women, but I’m so happy that I captured her in the process of blowing out her birthday candle. I handed my camera to my nephew without first explaining to him that he was to take my picture. When I saw him start to point the camera at Mom, I started yelling at him to take my picture since I’d already taken Mom’s.
I blew mine out fussing at my nephew.
At least he managed to take a decent picture. Next time, I’ll talk to him first about what I want, then hand him my camera. I’ve been away so long that I didn’t really appreciate how much instruction he needs despite him being in his early 30s. He’s cognitively a teenager at best.
At one point, Dad became a little restless, so I got his walker and he and I started walking the length of the restaurant. I’m not sure what brought more of a smile out of other people as we walked by. I wondered if it was my tiara or the combination of Dad and I walking together, but apparently we were a happy sight.