The 500th and the 56th

This will be my five hundredth story / poem on Vocal. It was also my fifty-sixth birthday this past week.

Birthdays always bring out the retrospective in me.

When it comes to the fifty-plus years I’ve been on this planet, the bad birthdays outweigh the good, by a long margin. Bad food, wrong food (like, makes me puff up like a balloon because wow too much salt), completely forgotten, all the way up to holding a wake for a friend who suddenly died that morning. My idiot ex-friend kept insisting my birthday was a month early, three freaking years in a row, and tried to get everyone else to believe her, and not me. Once my husband completely forgot we had reservations, and delayed returning from remote work, six hours away. I was steaming mad about that one.

I remember my thirtieth being good, a really nice restaurant, and my parents and hubster celebrating with me. One, I was completely alone (hubster was six hours away), and my three besties appeared on my doorstep to make sure I didn’t implode. Eventually I decided to celebrate Two Pi Day instead of my birthday, and after that, things got easier: the focus of 22/7 was on two pies, not on me. I threw a birthday party for myself once, that went over pretty decently; I got to see a bunch of friends I hadn’t seen since pre-COVID. A few good birthdays, intermixed with a hella lotta bad.

During a particular string of rather bad ones, I’d gotten into the habit of falling down a deep rabbit hole the night before, then sleeping in. The best was learning all about lipid extraction analysis in ancient pottery artifacts; the worst was learning all the ins and outs and ughs of the Donner Party. Two health conditions now prevent me from doing that anymore (sigh, I kinda miss them), so I have to find another focus.

Once I moved back to my home town, we usually travel up to a place called Heisler’s to celebrate. Belgian waffles and mini golf on top of a mountain, what could be better? (Diabetic? Don’t know what you’re talking about. Hush.)

This year’s? Pretty darn good, so far.

I thought it was going to be a bad one, at first.

A week before, a friend decided she didn’t want to be my friend any more. Fine, whatevs, but since I had a huge car load of her stuff saved in my house, that would need to be returned. And no, I wasn’t going to allow her to pick a weekday – good friends are worth hubster taking a vacation day to do the 2 ½ hour trip (one way) with me, but a now former friend? Screw that stercum. So now I have to change my birthday plans, because her perpetual victimhood interferes with reality.

I’m annoyed.

Well, if life gives you lemons…

There are historic signs between us and the designated meeting place, and we have a bit of time to explore them, before the ugly predicted storms start rolling through. Off we went, efficient and with alacrity and all that to get under a nasty thunder cell, and headed for some historic buildings with cool histories. Found out about a whistle stop for President Lincoln, on his way to give the Gettysburg Address. Neat!

Down to the border, one more historic sign (I would like to eventually see one of the original Mason-Dixon line markers), and on to our destination. Hey, I didn’t look up Maryland’s historic markers, but we got some anyway. Bonus! (Missed some, too, when I looked at the map when we returned. Next time…)

The “exchange of hostages” (whatever, girl, just get out of my life) was over quickly, and I got in a parting shot that should make her think about her own culpability in the friendship dissolution. Good enough, and better than I asked for.

Now, for lemonade!

The restaurant down the street is called Little Georgia (in Riesterstown, MD), and they have the best Georgian food! (The country, not the state.) We ordered a lot, then packed it in our ice-filled cooler (heh, planned ahead), and drove it home, avoiding two lines of thunderstorms barreling through.

The next day, we shared it with my parents. NOM. Oh, so nommy…

The day before my birthday, I got to drove down to visit my bestie. Food, chat, making some glass beads, more chatting, crafting, talk of other crafting.

And an awesomely cool birthday present:

My actual birthday has been relatively quiet, and I’ll take it and run. Lots of lovely birthday wishes! A poem dedicated to me! More caterpillars in my habitat! A song that I’ve been trying to find for forty freaking years, recovered, thanks to the dedication of a Facebook group!

(In case you're wondering, take a listen to that synthesizer beat: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tgGApOyABSk)

Yesterday, hubster and I traveled east, to an economically depressed area of New Jersey, to present an archeology “dig” for rocks, at a public library. About twenty-five people, I think? Digging in sand pans for tumbled stones was a major hit, but when you sweeten the deal by giving out small bags of fossil shark teeth… What fun! Those kids (and adults!) were loving every second of it, and I’m so glad we did it!

Tomorrow I’m planning a short trip, to pick up some more historic signs, and also pick up three new squishie machines that have magically appeared on the list. Nearby. Taunting me… Thwarting me… Must go and squish the pennies!

Sunday my parents and I and hubster will go to Heisler’s, and we shall have ice cream after a game of mini golf. Because some things are good no matter when you go, and we will have a good time, despite the heat. Or storms. By then, I will have released at least two butterflies (they are quite restless, but I always hold them till the next morning, so their wings are fully dry), and I will have one more chrysalis, and maybe even have a baby teeny caterpillar from the egg I spotted today, on a fresh milkweed stalk. Because flutters don’t give a frass that it’s my birthday, and I’d better keep the foods coming, because they Will Let Me Know In No Uncertain Terms that they’re unhappy with the quantity if I slack off.

A dang good birthday, one of the best so far. Unexpected, and delightful, and the celebrations still aren’t over. Fun!