Made it ’round the sun for the seventy-eighth time. Donna and I (we’re the same age again, at least until May, when she’ll pull ahead once more) are still telling anyone who asks we’re in our seventies, intentionally omitting the “late” prefix.
Annual wellness check with my doctor yesterday. Heart & blood pressure great and all the lab results are good. Better than good in fact — finally I’m able to stop taking one medication altogether and cut the dosage of another in half. The number of pills I have to take every morning and evening troubles me, so even a small reduction feels like a major accomplishment. All thanks to Ozempic, which in addition to helping me lose weight has done wonders for cholesterol and blood sugar levels. So it looks like I’ll be around a while yet. Donna, too, thank heavens.
Not exactly a jumping-up-and-down birthday, this late in the game, but we ate out last night (camarones rellenos at Mariscos Chihuahua, a local favorite). Why not tonight, on my actual birthday? Because we want to be home for the trick-or-treaters. Our daughter Polly plans to make herb-encrusted lamb chops while we mind the candy jar, and Donna made French toast for me this morning (I’ll be skipping lunch). Our son sent gifts, which I have yet to unwrap (thanks in advance, Gregory!), and a host of friends and relatives have sent best wishes by mail, email, and on social media. I send thanks to each and every one, so it’s been a busy morning.
I confess, by way of celebrating yesterday’s good checkup, to pinching a two-pack of Reese’s peanut butter cups from the Halloween candy jar. Also, too, I’m finally wearing the birthday watch, a present to myself, ordered a month in advance to allow time for overseas shipping but which arrived much earlier than expected, meaning it’s been languishing in my display case for weeks, frustratingly not ticking away on my wrist. Well the big day has finally come and I’m a-wearin’ it.
So, some photos. No captions necessary, I think, except to apologize for not taking a photo of the bacon-wrapped and cheese-stuffed camarones before I’d taken a bite. Oh, and the last one: Mister B licking my plate this morning as Lulu & Fritzi looked on (they’re almost as indulgent of him as we are, ’cause in dog years he’s practically Joe Biden).
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Now to enjoy the rest of the day, which means not thinking about the election. Stay fresh, cheese bags!
Sounds like a good birthday for you. I’m leaving soon for my toe surgeon to pull a honking long steel pin out of my no-longer-hammer-toe. Which sounds horrendous but, if I remember correctly from my previous toe chopping, doesn’t really hurt much. I took half a Norco just in case, which I hope doesn’t queasify me.
I’m exactly like you regarding the election; radio silence. I used to follow the news but I’ve been nervous-in-the-service since 1969 and it’s better for to ignore all news. Which is hard to do with the rascist rapist nazi’s ugly fucking face plastered on every TV and fondleslab. Besides that, even if the traitor loses again little will change since the problem is our fellow Americans, at least 45% or so, pretty much love them some fascism. And the democracy hating oligarchs who own the world will soon find another tool who, scarily, might not be so profoundly foolish as trump. But I gave the dems money- a 1st for me, and am voting tomorrow so there is not one thing more I can do except deep breathing and hoping for the best. Happy Halloween birthday.
Belated birthday wishes. (I was at a HHH weekend)..