He said he didn't get me anything for my birthday. He didn't want to buy things just to have things for me to tear wrapping paper off of. We agree having things isn't what we want. We don't want stuff you have to dust.

What he did give me was his time and attention. He always does that. He listened to me talk about places I like to go. He made a hotel reservation.

We drove up north and spent two nights near the water. We drove around to some vineyards. We ate wonderful meals and bought some things. He let me choose a restaurant for dinner. I liked that they served meals made from fresh local ingredients. They had a four page wine list and the menu changes every night. It's actually located in a former psychatric hosptial building. The waitress assured us though that it was the location of the root cellar.

We had nearly perfect weather for early May and off-season rates. We stayed next to a cute little breakfast place where the servings of corn beef hash were as big as my head. The waitress brought out samples of soup our first night so we could taste them. She asked if we wanted the cherry pie heated before the ice cream was added.

I know I had great birthdays as a kid, parties and all. I know my friends threw a surprise party in college for me. I know some dear ones got me through 33 with a slumber party and porn. That was the hardest birthday of all.

But this one seemed darned near perfect. I struggled to remember a better one. He took me away last year too, but somehow, this one seemed perfect.

He's gone now, and I'm another year older. I still get asked for ID when ordering drinks now and then. I feel pretty darned lucky and blessed and very loved and cherished. I still struggle to remember feeling better. Ever. I know I have, must have. I just can't remember it right now.

Aaah, long time I see I've not posted. Sometimes when I have things to do and not wallow, I do them and am not on the computer so much.

I've been knitting a bit more. I went with my dad to his surgeon yesterday. He had the gastric bypass nearly a year ago. I think he's lost enough weight. He's kind of fixated on weighing a certain number. I don't think that's healthy. I told him he should exercise more. I have mental pictures from actual photographs of him in high school. He wrestled and played football and basketball. He had visible muscle tone. That image, in my mind, is of a healthy, fit, active person. I hope he can see that too and maybe do some more exercise.

Who am I to talk, but I do exercise more now than I ever did. I hate to admit it, but all that they say about it is true. It helps me not feel so depressed. I have more energy, I sleep better, I feel better, my clothes fit better. I know it's better for my heart and my bones. It certainly won't hurt any of us to exercise a bit more.

My beau is in town, and he surprised me with the most wonderful pot rack above my kitchen table. I know that may not seem like the greatest thing, but it is for me. And wow, does it free up more space in the cupboards! Plus my appliances that live in the "I don't use these as much" cupboard can move closer to the action! It's wonderful that he thinks of these things AND can install them. He fixed the broken shelf inside my refrigerator too. I can put the condiments in the door!! Why though, I must ask myself, do I have so many condiments? I need 4 kinds of mustard, I swear.

I look forward to the week ahead. Time away from work and away from home. Time with friends.

I wish my sister luck in her job pursuits, the other sister I wish all safe travels and the revelation that comes from traveling to a place far away, both from home and her regular life.

My heart continues to expand with the power of the love I give, and the more I have to give.

Spring, at last is here, and I feel renewed, refreshed and for the most part, at peace with everything.