My darling husband had a birthday last Friday; he turned “26” (which stands to reason since I turned “25” again this year and he’ll always be older than me).

Asher and Lucas and I baked him a lovely apple cake. The kids chopped the apples. It went kind of like this: “One for Daddy’s cake. One for me. One for Daddy’s cake. One fore me.”

Here’s the cake before we frosted it with butter cream frosting and topped it with colorful sprinkles. Damn, it was good! Moist and spicy with nutmeg. I used the Apple Hill recipe and it turned out perfect.

I roasted a chicken (and basted it with butter, garlic, and curry powder), which was beautiful and golden but I didn’t get a photo. I prepared a wonderful spinach salad and cauliflower purée, too. (It’s delish and a lot like mashed potatoes but not nearly so carby.) Ian’s sister and her boyfriend (we love them both dearly) joined us for dinner to help us celebrate. They brought the “Beatles Rock Band” game with all the equipment. We all played the game together and had a wonderful time!

Lucas was great at singing “Yellow Submarine.” I haven’t sung into a mic in … well, 20 years. So that was both weird and really fun.

Asher liked the colors on the game, but got discouraged or embarrassed at one point and gave up.

On Saturday, a beautiful, chilly fall day, we got to celebrate with just grown ups. Ian and NoNo and I ate lunch in Placerville and then drove to a little town in the Sierra foothills called Fairplay. It’s south of Apple Hill and has lots of wineries to visit. We went to three of them and tasted Sirahs and Syrahs, and Cabernets and Sauvignon Blancs, Zins and Merlots, Muscats and Ports, and a couple of varietals that I’ve never before heard of. It was lovely, although I found after a while that tasting every other wine was a better plan for me.

At the Winery by the Creek we got a treat we’d never before experienced. We tasted wine directly from the barrel. Young wine is weird and you have to try to “taste it forward.” For me, that didn’t mean much, but that’s probably because by the time we arrived there I was mostly done with wine tasting. We considered the merits of wine futures for the first time. NoNo was really tempted by both the Zinfandel and the Port, but left without buying either.

Ian and I came home with about six bottles after our adventure. We gave one to my folks as a way of thanking them for watching our boys for the afternoon.

It’s true. I’m an addict. I have actually socialized with people I love and admire for four days in a row, beginning on my birthday last Thursday and continuing through until late last night. It was wonderful and my heart feels full from all the hugs and kisses, love and attention I’ve received.  

On my birthday I went to Bellagio Spa and spent a gift certificate that Ian bought for me in 2005. I met nonosays there and we got pedicures. I also got a lovely facial and a manicure. I could totally get used to doing that as often as possible.

See how cute my toes are?

On Friday I went to see nonosaysgraduate with a graphic design degree from Sacramento State. It was super cool seeing her so happy in her funny black cap and gown. I only wish I got a photo of the googly eyes on her cap.

Here she is. Isn’t she beautiful?

On Saturday, we went to  her graduation party at her home in midtown. I got to meet some more of her and her husband’s family, which was fun. I especially enjoyed talking with mrplanet4   ‘s mother and sister. We took the boys along and they did really well, considering we were at the party for 9 fun-filled hours. We finally dragged ourselves away at 9 p.m. when the boys’ eyes became glassy. They fell asleep the moment we strapped them into the car seats to come home. Some friends, including our gracious hosts, complimented us on how great Lucas and Asher were, which pleases me so much. Ian and I try hard to provide Lucas with plenty of positive reinforcement for being polite, friendly, and well behaved when we go places.

My home was full yesterday of delightful shenanigans, hot tub soaking, champagne, cocktails, brunch, burgers, dancing, sunshine, conversation, and beautiful people. My children were well behaved and wandered hither and thither among friends who love them. I admit I was sad when the last guest left at around 11 p.m., but felt glorious when falling into my bed. I slept a heavy, restful sleep and woke up feeling fantastic. Nothing quite like a day spent relaxing in the spa. It was exactly the day I imagined and wanted. Thank you, darlings. If anyone has some photos to share with me, I’d love to have them.

This is a superquick post to say THANK YOU for all the sweet birthday wishes I recieved on LJ, Barbarians, my email, voice mail, and in person. My friends are the BEST. It was a great birthday except for something that Mother Nature did, which has me feeling sad and disappointed. (Wicked wind storm shattered my favorite tree. Kaput.) 

I would go on to enumerate the amazing, fantastic qualities of my peeps and describe in detail my gratitude, but I can’t because I’m racing a deadline this morning and have plans for the afternoon.

Happy Birthday, mickibean!  You are probably the most enthusiastic and energetic person I have ever met. You are kind, sensitive, supportive, positive, and sweet as pie (and I like pie!). I am grateful for your friendship and hope we can play together sometime soon. I hope your special day is as wonderful and charming as you are! Love you, my Gemini sister.

Nana turned 95 on Monday of this week. The family took her out to The Buggy Whip restaurant, which at one time was probably a very nice steakhouse but now is only so-so. Nana’s lost her short-term memory, so she probably thinks of the place as it was in its heyday. About 30 of us crowded into their banquet room and surprised her with a birthday celebration. I’m not sure whose idea it was to surprise the 95-year-old woman on her birthday: Fortunately no paramedics were needed! 

Nell Mueller is her name, but she’s always been Nana to me. I know “Nana” is a nickname normally given to grandmothers, but Nana is actually my grand-aunt. She is my grandmother’s oldest sister and for my entire life the two of them have lived together. Birthdays and holidays always included her, so I have always felt as though I had three grandmothers.

She was always tall and big, but never heavy. Her salt-and-pepper hair always perfectly set in short curls. She is fastidious in her dress and grooming: Nana always has a nail file on hand and she uses it often. She has strong features, sparkling eyes, and a gentle touch. She has gotten smaller over the years—both thinner and shorter. Now she is bony but still strong. Physically she is in much better shape than my grandmother.

Nana was “the busy one,” or so I thought when I was a child. Nana worked on her business, while my grandmother, RoRo, worked on family stuff and raising grandchildren and all of the many cousins of my generation. Nana founded the Hobby House in the 50s, which later became the Graphic Hobby House, on the family’s property at Fulton and Marconi avenues in Sacramento. Mueller Corner is across the street from Town & Country Village, and while it has never performed as well as T&C, given that it is smaller and has less available space for tenants, it is a valuable piece of land nonetheless. That was where Nana, RoRo, and their sisters Dorothy and Mary grew up. They live only minutes from that corner even now.

Prior to starting the Hobby House, Nana was an artist and an art teacher at San Juan High School. I believe she has an art degree from San Jose State. There are a handful of paintings by her around, mostly landscapes in oil. She was the one who always gave me art supplies as presents; I’ve noticed she likes to give such gifts to my son, too.

Nana never married. I suppose at one time, she was Nell, or even Nellie. I’ve seen pictures of her as a young woman. I do not know if she ever dated anyone, and I am now curious about that. She was always involved in clubs such as Soroptimist International of Sacramento North, a charity that has donated lots of time and money to improving the lives of Sacramentans and the residents of the Arden Arcade area. She was always involved in family life, just never had a family of her own.

Nana doesn’t remember recent things anymore. She forgets what she ordered for lunch only moments after ordering. She doesn’t remember that she pruned the rose bushes yesterday and so prunes them again. She doesn’t remember that the woman she has always treated as a daughter (her neice in reality) has lied and stolen thousands of dollars from her in recent years (and is now trying to abscond with the family fortune through a legal battle over the trust). Nana does not recognize Asher. Every time she sees him she asks his name and his gender. 

It makes me sad to see her like this, however, in a way, she seems really happy. Some of her sharpness has rubbed off. She is easier to please and not as picky. She isn’t in a rush to accomplish anything, although she still putters and plays hours of solitaire on the computer, whose sole purpose is to let Nana play solitaire. She misses driving herself around. She used to drive very fast.

At one time, I did a “grandparent” report on Nana; I think it was my freshman year of high school. I wish I had it now because I know I’ve forgotten lots of things about her life. A couple of years ago, I had the privilege of helping Nana publish a tiny book about the history of the Soroptimist group of which she was a member and past president. It was kind of tough working with her at the time since she has a hard time with computers, but nevertheless I’m happy I got to spend that time with her.  In some ways, she was a pioneer in business in a time when women typically didn’t venture there.

Happy 95th Birthday, Nana. You’re wonderful and I love you.

Nana at our house, Feb. 3, 2008.

Last year for my birthday, NoNoSays gave me a beautiful pink hydrangea in a 4-inch pot. I planted it in my front yard in a partly shady spot and it has easily quadrupled in size. Its leaves are a charming light green and it’s just beginning to bloom in time for my birthday again.

When I was a little girl, we had a clump of irises in the front yard near our mean neighbors’ house. I rarely visited that side of our yard because the neighbors had big, mean dogs, teenaged mean boys, and a pinched, mean mommy. Every year, though, right around my birthday in May, those irises would burst into the most magnificent purple you ever saw. My mother called them my birthday flower, and over the years, whenever I would begin to get antsy and excited about my impending birthday, she would say, “Go check your birthday flower and see how it’s doing. If it’s blooming it’s your birthday.” For several weeks of the year, I would brave daily visits to that side of the yard to check the progress of the buds.

I’m very happy to have a beautiful birthday flower again. Next week, the day after my birthday, NoNo graduates from CSU Sacramento with a coveted and hard-won design degree. I know that pink hydrangea is blooming for both of us. Thank you, NoNo, and congratulations!  

The great Old West “Ghost Town at Sundown” birthday party was last weekend and it ROCKED! It took two solid days to get everything ready and make the place presentable. I had help from Dakini, Parnasus, and my mother-in-law and sister-in-law. Ian worked his tail off before, during, and after the party.

We had 10 small, charming guests and a few parents who stayed to enjoy our Wilson Ranch dinner of hamburgers, baked beans, corn on the cob, strawberries, and salad. The kids had fun lassoing our cows, which were the greatest thing ever made: Ian, my brilliant husband took my cryptic instruction (“Take these sawhorses and make ’em into cows”) and did it well beyond my wildest expectations.

It was hard waiting for the party to start at 4 p.m. We spent the day decorating and shopping for food. Asher enjoyed playing in all the red bandannas.

Still waiting for friends to arrive.

They’re here, finally! We built this teepee from dead birch trees and a canvas painter’s dropcloth. In the morning, we painted “American Indian” symbols on it with termpera paint, such as rivers, bears, salmon, corn, a sun, a rainbow, a thunderbird, a moon, snakes, etc.

E and M ride on the cows.

A ties on his bandana to avoid breathing campfire smoke.

R takes a turn. Sun poses in his fancy costume.

M is M’s younger sister. Here’s M, too. They are both in Lucas’s kindergarten class this year.

R is rambunctious and Lucas admires him a lot. Here’s beautiful E; Lucas has been friends with E since they were 3 and 4 years old.

We had a campfire in the backyard for a while. The children ate their dinners and birthday cake while sitting around it, but we didn’t time the fire right for roasting marshmallows, unfortunately. Still, the novelty of having a backyard fire made quite an impression. Nobody got hurt, either.

Sun liked roping the cows.

Lucas loved being the center of attention. He basically thought the whole day should go perfectly, that is his way. It kind of sucked when he hit his head really hard on the swing set. Still, he got over it. (Those are healing mosquito bites on his face.)

Lucas got lots of wonderful presents, including new fancy Stockmar crayons, a paint-a-dinosaur kit, plastic cowboys and indians (alas, with guns), WWII die-cast airplanes, Dr. Doolittle and Mary Poppins books, original story books by a special 8-year-old nicknamed Snow, leather horsey reigns with bells, and an adventure pack/sleeping bag with a flashlight.


Snow had new, shiny red cowgirl books. I was jealous.

Snow played with Asher and let him wear her hat. Asher thinks she is dreamy.

Here’s Lucas showing off one of his presents. He is flabbergasted that the cowboys have guns in their hands and I have so far not taken them away from him. He keeps looking at me and wondering if I’ve noticed them.

I bought enough cowboy hats and bandanas for every child at the party to have one. Many came wearing hats already, so we still have a few left over. I’m happy with the cowboy cake I ordered from the Raley’s bakery, and even happier that I didn’t try to make it myself. The food was great, thanks to Cookie Daddy! And it was really nice that some of my favorite parent friends stayed for the party. Their presence made it more fun for me and Ian.

All in all, it was a great day on the Wilson Ranch!

Today was the Big Party Day. I do not have enough energy to write about it yet. But I want to record this birthday wish that Lucas received from one of his very best friends in the world. It is perhaps the most wonderful birthday wish ever wished.

From Snow (8 years old) to Lucas on the occasion of his sixth birthday:

“I hope the sun will keep you warm. I hope the moon will guide your way and every twinkling star. I hope the wind will keep you calm. I hope the water will be there when you need it. I hope the fire will make you strong. I hope the earth will make peace in your life. I hope you will always be safe with your family.”

I can add only this: Me too. Thank you. Amen.

Here’s the rootin’, tootin’ party invitation that went out to Lucas’s friends a couple of weeks ago. Today’s the big day! From 4 p.m. to 7 p.m. we will be surrounded by many, many children wearing cowboys hats! 

Lucas, you are six years old today! Six years ago we held you in our arms for the first time. You were tiny; only 6 pounds and 8 ounces. You had lots of dark, dark hair and a wrinkled up face and red skin. We dressed you in mismatched baby clothes—because you surprised us and we didn’t have all the new ones laundered yet. Somehow, we were so focused on the birthing, we forgot that at the end of it, we’d have a baby and a photo op. Somehow, you were both early (two and a half weeks) and late (productive actual labor didn’t start until 48 hours after my water broke). We danced you into this world; we tranced you into this world. When you arrived, you cracked open the sky and all the light of heaven flowed into my life. 

This is not your birthday letter; I need more time to create that. This is just your birthday post, to say “Wow. We’ve made it so far!” Today was stormy, intense, wonderful, aggravating, and sweet, just as six promises to be. I’m looking forward to learning all the amazing and soul-splitting things you have to teach me this year.

Happy Birthday, Star Child. You are the whirl in my whirligig, and you’ve got me spinnin’ right ’round. I love you to the moon, all the way past Pluto, through the next hundred galaxies and back again.