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A Quiet Birthday

November 2022

It’s unfortunate that the last couple of years, covid has disrupted Andrew’s birthday plans. However there’s little we could do except just accept it.

After all, what can you do? C’est la vie as the French say.

It rained all day yesterday on his birthday. It’s fair to say that Melbournites are sick and tired of this weather. La Niña means that everything is wet, moss covered, muddy – it rains constantly. Day, night.

I’ll never again have these “cozy feelings” of wrapping myself up in a warm blanket with a book in my lap, listening to rain on the roof. Thanks to the Covid lockdowns (263 long days of them) plus the ongoing torrential rain that has locked us in again, I’m ready to break loose.

Of course I was hoping to do this at our mini 3-day break at Cape Schank but alas, he caught covid, he’s still testing positive even though his symptoms are gone, we thought we’d do the right thing and cancel. He hasn’t taken leave in a few years. He’s run ragged at work and in some way, catching covid meant enforced rest for him for a couple of weeks. In place of our mini break, we organised to have a tree branch cut in our back yard because it’s preventing the arbour being constructed.

Sigh. I think age is catching up with us. Deciding against a short escape to do jobs in our back yard. 😏

As I tap this, the sun has come out, there’s a bit of blue sky and I hope it will hold just enough for me to get to the park for a walk. The parrots will be out in force. I’d like to see them play in the puddles of water on the sporting ovals. That, or find mushrooms sprouting everywhere.

I baked a chocolate birthday cake (served with real whipped cream) for Andrew and made a delicious Greek lamb roast with potatoes and pumpkin for dinner. Wine was a lovely Shiraz from Scotchman Hill Winery, Bellarine Peninsula. Pud, the cat, looks on disinterested.
I had subjected him to the warbling of my vocal chords in my rendition of Happy Birthday.
My gifts to him were books of his favourite people and band. I may need to sneak read Rich Hall before he does. I tend to avoid reading his books because he usually casts his eyes over his glasses to make sure I don’t crack their spines, dog ear the pages or heavens forbid, spill red wine on the pages – as is my usual way of enjoying books. His hovering over me reading his books puts me off a bit admittedly (as I tell him this with chocolate cake crumbling into the pages of an open book in my lap while he looks on in silent horror).
Later while at the park: said parrots
My inundated walking trails. Water everywhere