The End of the Birthday, Part l

 

So I was going to write you a closely reasoned, deeply perceptive, fabulously illuminating essay on the origins of the universe and the evolution of human consciousness.*

            And then I got sidetracked into writing a series of emails about bell ringing.  Some fiend** emailed several of us who are varying degrees ahead of her on the path to surprise royal***, seeking advice . . . and of course there was the most awful bottleneck as we all rushed to respond.   And then respond to each other's responses.  And then . . .

            But wait . . . I am saved.  You're all waiting for the End of the Birthday photos!

            . . . Although it may yet explode in tears and bitter recriminations when I can't make the new rules for foiling WordPress' nasty little text-wrapping habits work.   But we gird our key-pressing fingers for battle and . . .

The unglamorous restaurant photo. Aren't you sorry you asked. However please note signs of festive debauchery.

You noticed the bouquet, right? Just in case you didn't notice it enough.

It's all about the necklace really. The only reason you're even getting the unglamorous restaurant photo is because I wanted to show you the necklace. One of Peter's more amazing presents from some years back. One of the few pieces of jewelry I can't really bring myself to wear with jeans, but I get it out and fondle it pretty regularly.

Golly, is this central with caption thing really going to work???   It can't be this easy.  I'm sure something with fangs and a bad attitude is lurking in a corner somewhere.

* * *

* You know.  The usual thing for Days in the Life. 

** You Know Who You Are

*** Don't ask.  It's enough to know that it's scary.