It's interesting how birthdays become less of a thing as you get older. I remember birthdays as a kid: the fight for parties, the clamoring for the right present, cake, ice cream, hoping someone will sing to you. I forgot my birthday was coming until a couple of days before, and now John's is here and he's at work, editing. He wants a quiet night at home; I feel for him.
He brought me flowers yesterday; beautiful, colorful Gerbera daisies. I should have been bringing him flowers and instead, he walked into the kitchen while I was making dinner and handed me this gigantic bouquet. I wish I could have fresh flowers in my house all the time. They are sitting on the long black table in the front window so everyone walking by can see them. They're better than plants because you don't have to keep them alive. I have an absolute brown thumb. I kill cacti. I have one Christmas cactus that's been alive for 12 years and everything else I've ever tried to grow has died a miserable death; committed floral suicide more like. Cut flowers though, they stay beautiful as long as they can, then you replace them.
So, I've been tracking the path of Tropical Storm Ernesto, which may become a hurricane by the end of the day. Thank god it's bypassing the gulf for now, but it looks like it's crashing into Miami or thereabouts. I"m so glad I'm not going to be down there for a while - I'd like to let all of the hurricanes get it out of their system before I have to spend any time in that toxic city. I hope their recovered from the predicted barrage before I start on "Samson et Dalila."
Speaking of forces of nature, I smacked our cat, Stella, today. I'm not usually corporal in punishing my cats, but she's been so vile towards Lucius lately, sneaking up on him, winding up her butt, then leaping out onto his back as he walks away. She's like a miniature Orka whale, gliding through the house, waiting to dive down on her prey, and poor Lucius runs hissing into his room every time. I want him to feel comfortable in this entire house, but she's making it very difficult. She hides behind doors and on the other side of the couch, just waiting for him to let his guard down. Aaargh, they're like little kids; the only one who's remotely well adjusted is Monty, who spends his whole day grooming his paws and sleeping.
Wish I could do that with my day.
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Sam sent me a gorgeous arrangement of flowers for our anniversary - he sent a picture of our wedding flowers to a florist who recreated them pretty accurately.
I find a spray bottle filled with water is effective at fending one cat off another (and at getting them off the counters). We have a couple in various rooms so there's always one at hand.
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