Dear Diary, (birthday week)  (sound clip: Skinny Women Ain't Hip by the Trailer Park Troubadours)

 

I am the proverbial 39. Older even than my Grandma Loretta who, born in 1919, claimed to be 38 as long as I can remember. Afterall, 19+19 =38, she always said.  Hmmmm …

Birthday celebrations started December 1st at the Greg Brown concert, continued into the weekend at the KPIG Humbug Hoedown (an absolute blast!) with the Trailer Park Troubadours and Robert Earl Keen, and wrapped up with a day of  pampering … my favorite breakfast, mimosas, gorgeous flowers, a massage, dinner at the harbor and lots of well-wishes from friends and family. Even sunshine. And a dramatic sunset.

Lest you think my life is perfect … this wonderful week was marred by tragedy when Steve found a bobcat trapped in the chicken coop. It got in but couldn't find its way back out; a massacre ensued. Steve cleaned up the carnage, all 13 chickens, on my birthday (bless him). We loved our chickens and we are sad.   last • next

   My birthday sunset …   our beautiful and beloved rooster, Apollo…   and the bobcat who killed him.

2004 Diary Pages

2002 and 2003 Diary Pages
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2001 Diary Pages
January—February—March—April—May—June—July

2000 Diary Pages
January—February—March—April—May/June—July—August/September—October—November—Birthday—Holidays

1999 Diary Pages
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September—October—November (1)—November (2)—Birthday—Christmas Eve—Christmas Day