I had a feeling this day was coming, it does every damned year. How depressing? Birthdays are for children. People my age don't want to hear about them, know about them or be asked what we want this year. By now, all of the good presents have been given. If you don't have a pocket fisherman by now, by the time you get to my age, you've done something wrong.
The week was filled with calls from the Lovely Jules of, "Have you decided what you want yet?" My answer remained the same, "I don't need anything"... All the while she knew she had already secured a great present, days before. Her attempt to taunt me was semi-successful.
Let me preface this with telling the reader that 2 days before my birthday, I had a relapse of the stomach flu. So, my thoughts on presents we circumvented by screams of Raaaaaalph and Booooob and resenting anything that I'd eaten within the past 24 hours. Death was the only way out, for quite some time.. St. Jules had made reservations at the Wigwam resort, that I have a feeling that we'll never see.
Around 3 PM Julie called and I suggested that she cancel the reservations, although I was feeling better, not good enough to go out on the town. My replacement birthday consisted of Julie bringing over precooked meals from Sprouts including pot roast with garlic mashed potatoes and steamed assorted vegetables. She made a delicious avocado and tomato salad that looked like it should be in a magazine. She bought me a birthday cake and even brought paper plates that said happy birthday, along with fresh strawberries sliced thinly.
For my gift and this was one of the best I've ever received, a 2 foot long wind chime that is located on the patio and tuned perfectly to the key of "C". When the wind gently blows, it sounds like a monk's retreat around here. I positioned it next to the neighbors on my A side, not near the creeps on my B side.
After gift giving time Julie, although extremely tired after a long day of work, starting at 5 AM passed out massages, Bogie going first. Bogie, my 300 LB Great Dane is clearly in love with the Lovely Jules. He doesn't let anyone climb on him the way Julie does. She lays down behind him and puts her leg over his side and started giving him a Yoga massage.. Even the look on his face tells that he's in 7th heaven. When she stops, he licks her face until she starts again. I warn her that if he growls, respect his growl and get off, but he never growls at her. I think it's just puppy love!
Second was Zoie's turn and she never got off the sofa as Julie massaged away. With great anticipation, I patiently waited for my birthday turn. Julie explained that my turn was to be a little later at her house. I quickly gathered things up to drive her home, me being the designated driver.
When we arrived at the West side domicile, it was shortly after 9 and Pawpaw was ready for his walk. So it was off onto the Golf we went, ever looking for red eyes watching us, for they are the eyes of the wild coyotes.
After a brief walk, we came back to the house and it was finally MY turn for my massage. Julie climbed into bed and I excused myself to the restroom. When I returned, there was St. Jules fast asleep mumbling her usual nondescript mutterings under her breath that inquiries don't ever get a response to.. I gently laid down for a few minutes and listened to a coyote off in the distance making a kill. They let out a high pitched scream alerting the other members of the pack of the kill. Almost like a gorilla pounding on his chest... I whispered to Julie, are the doors locked? No answer. I took my leave, safely securing the house. The last thing I heard was Pawpaw snoring in the bedroom. I THINK it was Pawpaw!