It's All About The Birthdays

This post is a repeat and slightly expanded version of a FB post I just wrote. When I got to the third phone call, I giggled and said to no one in particular, "It's all about the Birthdays." Then I giggled because the Three members of Lou'sZoo  heard me talking aloud and were scrambling to take up their Word Capturing Kissy Positions (TheGirls on either side of me, and ThatCat on my lap--tap-tappin' my forearm. His claws were unsheathed--remindung me once again we ALL need a spa day--Moggy missed his on his Gotcha day last month, and KatE shared my Birthday next week--and Kinzie is getting sharp as well. So we ALL need a trim.

Anyway, here's the FB post:

It's All About the Birthdays

I finally got around to checking my phone messages. Today I only missed three. 

First William Winterfeld called (actually his wife) to say I'm missed. We also exchanged Birthday wishes (hers was last month, mine is this month). She didn't mention the text saying I might be seeing her in a week or so....it may be a surprise.  😉

Second, was the frantic call from my Sister. She lives rurally and has really sucky reception. One minute the sweet spot is on her front steps (but only when its raining 😂), and the next we are cut off abruptly and the sweet spot has moved to the field, or middle of the road, or some other as of yet unfound undesirable hot spot. 😉 

Anyway, she called when she didn't understand one of my texts, because of her wonky phone service. Almost as soon as we got that cleared up, her wonky phone dropped the call again. She finally was able to reach me by phone so she could at least hear me laughing and not being upset--unfortunately that calm understanding came after another misunderstanding, and she really became worried. 

Everything is finally ironed out, we are on the same wave link, and she found a sweet spot that allowed us to finish our call on OUR terms, not her phone service provider terms. 😉

When she confessed she had a hard time remembering which day was my birthday, I told her Daddy's secret: mine is 2x hers, and hers is half of mine.  

Side note:  Daddy left the US Navy as soon as he could because they had him working numbers in dry dock. Later he joined the US Air Force, was moved everyv2 years--but rather than "seeing the world"  he saw the panhandlers of Texas and Florida, Texas and Florida, Texas and Florida (yo-yo style). He reuped so many times he finally passed the 20 year mark. And he worked in Finance (working with the dreaded numbers again.) As much as he hated numbers, they ended up  ruling his work-life, and making interesting observations about everything else as well. 

Back to the Birthdays:

Once we lept over the "math" hurdle and she understood Daddy's Birthday trick, we had a pleasant conversation. 

Finally. I received a call from a sweet lady thinking she was leaving a Birthday wish for Shirley. 

Shirley is actually very popular,  and obviously has misremembered her phone number, because last week I was privy to the invite she received to a 52 game by an unnamed  gentleman. 😉😍

Perhaps he and Shirley were able to meet after all. Maybe they are out dining and dancing tonight as the unnamed woman suggested. I hope so. 😍

And Happy Birthday from the sentimental me to Shirley! 🎂🎈🎁

Of course, the cynical me wonders if Shirley, her friend, and the unnamed man are elders reliving their Youth by playing phone pranks on random folks (me!).  

While the game-playing competitive side of me is wondering if they need a 4th for 42. 😉

Okay, so maybe it's not "all" about the Birthdays--because the games are important too!

ML

Second Long Sleep and New Age Math

I really don't like Spring Forward.  I'm more of a mourning riser than a morning riser. But give me Fall Back. Every. Time. 

In fact, I propose we only do Fall Back. Both Time Change week ends each year. 

We could call the spring-time fall back ReFall Back. Or Fall Back II. Or the Fall Back ReDo.

Or we could take a chapter from the Hobbits and call it a Second Fall Back. Or the Second Long Sleep.  

It doesn't matter.  Whatever we call it I will be compliant and quite cozy in my extra hour. 

And younger. 

Think about it--we gain two extra hours each year, so at the end of a 12 year cycle we actuall have gained a full day that we have to do something with--so I propose we subtract that day from our age. 

I'm calling it my New Age Math.