This entry comes quite a bit later than I foresaw. The handiest excuse I have is laziness of
sorts; Dany got sick and caring for the munchkins tired me out too much to be
of much use in the evenings. In any
case, the events of the past week, though a tad disjointed, encroach on my mind…
My birthday came and went last week.
Perhaps it may come as a surprise, certainly a revelation I have just
realized, but I believe that I dread my birthdays. Certainly not because of the increasing age
they signify. I think a childish expectation
of grandeur was built up surrounding that day and the inevitably ensuing
failure to answer has made me somewhat unhappy on many occasions. I am currently surrounded by people who
either have no expectation for anything (much less a wish of many returns) but
who often don’t even know their own birth date.
This birthday was quiet. I
managed to get through it relatively unscathed and was happy to “greet the
morrow”. I baked a cake - a
cheesecake. A chocolate and vanilla
cheesecake to be sure! It was a triumph
of sorts since I lacked many an apparatus and ingredient. No spring-form pan, no wax paper, no vanilla,
a foreign sounding cream cheese, no graham crackers. Despite all this, the cake, if not as
attractive in stature as cheesecakes are normally wont to be, was
delicious!
I must comment on something before continuing. Note the colours of the eggs in the photo
above. Most of them are actually a rich
orange. This is because, as most of you will
know certainly where I didn’t, the chickens are what we call “free range
chickens”. Since they’re able to eat a
varied diet of insects, grains, and seeds, their eggs have less cholesterol and
more nutrients than otherwise. This
accounts for the colour. And for my
subsequent happiness at eating anything containing those eggs!
After my birthday came our anniversary.
Five years! We had a nice dinner
with the kids at Patrick’s Pizza. Then D
and I went for ice cream after the monkeys were asleep. It was simple and sweet, just like my
husband. I am so thankful for him. I had a little soliloquy all planned out in
my head; a tribute to my other half if you will. But some things are sometimes better
whispered to the flowers than shouted from the treetops. This, I feel, is one of them.
Yesterday the heat wave finally broke.
From the 40s, we plunged to about 30⁰C. It
was glorious. Not only that, but
deliciously gray clouds blanketed the sky for most of the day, shielding us
from the sun’s burning gaze. We sat comfortably
in the house, stopped by to see some family and generally found ourselves more
inclined to activity than previously.
In the blessed cool of evening we visited a new monastery. The buildings were not complete, but they
rose determinedly, gracefully from the mountainside; a testament of zeal, faith
and longing for the Creator. The cold
mountain air invigorated our bodies and the soft chanting of Vespers restored
our souls. It was an altogether ideal summer day, in my opinion.
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In a brief parting snapshot of family news: the kids are growing. I mean they are really sprouting like
beanstalks! We’ve had to buy new shoes
for both of them since we arrived. Not
so impressive, except that we just bought them shoes before we left – and it’s
only been a month and a half since then!
I am also growing taller – sideways that is. It is impossible not to lose weight when you
are accused of eating disorders if one doesn’t gorge oneself both at meals and
betwixt. Impressively, D is as thin as
ever. Why, oh why, does he get all the
good genes?
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