Quiet Day

It's been a quiet day in Birthday Land. I talked to my mother-in-law and each of my sons. As expected, no cards or calls from sisters or brothers. I did receive a birthday card from Grand Valley State University and e-wishes from University of Missouri and Mensa. It's a pity to get more birthday wishes from strangers than from one's own family. Oh, well. Them's the breaks.

My esteemed spouse gave me a most beautiful pair of Tahitian black pearl earrings. [I hint and I get, that's how it works.] Unfortunately, we may have to alter them somewhat. They have lever backs that don't seem to work for me. I don't think it would be difficult to replace those backs with French hooks, my preferred type of earring. He hinted that he wanted a jeweler to do it because the earrings were expensive, so of course, now the earrings get to become even more expensive.

In keeping with this quiet day, I did a bit of arts and crafts, moving all my projects into the spare basement room that we took the bed out of. There needs to be more light in there, but all in all, it's a good space for my hobbies. I've read a bit of a novel. It's a bit better than the last two murder mysteries I read, but not much. How does that crap get published? (Worse, why do I buy it?) How soon can I get MY crap published? [Answer: First, get it written.]

Today is the 200th day of the year. It's also the midpoint of summer. (That's according to the meteorologist on WOOD-TV.) I have one month left till Orientation at Ferris. AAAGGHHH!

I've tried three times today to take a nap, but have had no success. And it's such a perfect napping day! Cloudy, overcast, occasional showers--even Simon the cat has spent most of the day dozing. For some odd reason, I woke up early and was sipping coffee by 7 a.m., so I should be falling asleep standing up, given my sleeping habits lately. Maybe all my good health practices of late have provided me with more energy at last. (Or not. Maybe I'm just "wired" on birthday vibes.)

If I had a clearer mind (not so nap-need-fogged), I'd get philosophical about being 57, but it's such an odd number that there doesn't seem much to say. I'm no more middle-aged, wrinkled, or saggy-baggy than I was yesterday. No more gray hairs (not that I've noticed). Little is different, other than the number I'll have to write on the next form I fill out.