in which i ramble along about how many birthdays i have to celebrate

I always love a birthday where the presents, no matter who is receiving them, are things I really need. Why do things have to break so quickly in this modern and disposable age. We have to buy a new non stick egg frying pan every eighteen months because the handles always fall off them. Always.

And of course, we break wine glasses as though we are drunken college fraternity children. Except, I don't remember drinking wine out of nice glasses in college.

Of more interesting and lasting import was the nice story that the children all wrote altogether while I was out gathering in lamb and wine and a mediocre chocolate cake for The Party. Far be it from me to spend myself on the making of a fancy cake when the person for whom the celebration is being celebrated Won't Eat It. The story even had a plot. Be still my beating and happy heart.

And so now I must swiftly turn my thoughts to Gladys who turns six next week. And then the week after Marigold turns four. With the final extravaganzas of Halloween and Reformation Day I am always grateful to get to the relative calm of November which is a mere wisp with only Thanksgiving and Pageant Preparations. 

"It goes around in a circle," I said to a new little boy in Sunday School as we put together the Liturgical Calender, a circle with little wedges for each Sunday of the year. "There's so many," he complained after counting them. "And too many are green."

No, I thought to myself, Not Enough Green. We need more regular Sundays and weeks where nothing exceptional happens. 

But maybe God knows best.

Probably.

I mean, yes, absolutely.