Tag: photos

More springishness

Even though I’m not a mother, I kind of experience some mom things. Like…I’m rarely in holiday photos because I’m always taking them. In the photo albums, there are more pictures of the “kids” (in this case, dogs and Tim) than of the “parents” (me and Tom).

I’m the one who willingly cooks, organizes occasions, bakes birthday cakes. And I’m the one who does stuff like this…

…with a complete sense of acceptance that it likely won’t be done for me.

Since my own mother recently moved into “Shady Pines,” my resignation to being the grown-up who won’t get treated to kid things has become more entrenched. So imagine my surprise when I got to her apartment yesterday to find this:
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One of those anniversary kind of dates

As some of you know (and THANK YOU for the e-mails, cards, notes, LJ posts), March 26 was…um…the yearly anniversary of my 35th birthday. Vigilant readers of THE DEAL may remember that Aaron was thrown a belated surprise birthday party at a local Houston restaurant, Ming’s, and Tom and some of my friends thought it would be fun to do the same for me.

It WAS fun, and not just because of the presents, eggrolls, and the delicious cake. The company was EXCELLENT. I know I have the greatest friends in the world. I got birthday cards from as far away as Sweden (my college roommate), e-mails from all over the country, and phone calls from near and far. Even though I couldn’t be with all my friends, I promise you were well-represented by the wonderful gathering at Ming’s.


Thanks Lindsey, Lynne, Amy, Richard, Tom, Tim, Rhonda, Marla, and Nora for being there, not just tonight but for years spanning 1968 until now. You’re wonderful, and I love you all.

March at The Compound (so far)

As I mentioned before, March 4 was my mother’s eightieth birthday. My brother and sister came for that, but also because we had a lot of family business to take care of. Oddly, both of them ended up seeing doctors or dentists and taking painkillers and antibiotics. I had no idea spending a couple of weeks at The Compound could be so hazardous to anyone’s health.

I wish I had pictures of the night when a minute in a people-free house allowed Guinness to flip a ham from the table to the floor. Sadly, none of the photos quite capture the more dramatic moments of the last three weeks.
see images