In Which Party Details Please Our Heroine

31 July 2005

Last night was my birthday party. Ista did well. She started to get a little rambunctious around the cut-off point when we think about putting her to bed anyway, so we put her to bed then -- slightly early, but not by much. (Mark also took her outside again when I went to bed, so she didn't have any longer to wait overnight in her crate.) I think at least one of the kids was disappointed that she was not yet to the stage of doghood that will lie patiently and let small children pet it for ages, but mostly people seemed to think she was a gorgeous girl and a sweetheart and pretty reasonably behaved for a newish pup surrounded by unfamiliar monkeys. When there were fewer people in the living room (where I had her barricaded in with me), she would get down from my lap and explore the unfamiliar folks, busily sniffing toes; when there were more, she retreated back to my side and the corner of the couch where she can tuck her butt in all safe.

And I didn't have a bite of my birthday cake even yet (though it was praised highly in my hearing) because Stella brought some lovely concoction called Lincoln bars, and I had one of those instead, and it was very good. And then she left them here, so the remaining bars (approximately three) are mine, mine, mine! Well, ours, ours, ours, anyway; I am not so much of a ravening beast to deny someone a Lincoln bar should he want one.

There were lots of good moments, from the time Stella started helping me cut up veggies to the time Ginger and I threw the last leftovers in the fridge. There were lots of little moments that made me extremely happy. I'm not the sort of person who is made extremely happy by the party as an entity. It is loud and there are lots of people in it. But the details, the details can do that, and the details were just right in several spots.

We're having all kinds of work done this week: the bottom of the patio/deck enclosed so Ista can't get under there, since we can't; the fence posts and possibly the fence itself installed; someone out to look at the AC, which is leaking. I think that'll have to be it for now. I think the rest of the house stuff will wait for another week. At least, I think it had better.

And I enjoyed The Letter of Marque immensely and am reading Bear's Scardown (one of my birthday presents from Mark) and possibly some other stuff before diving into the next volume of O'Brian. I'm still gulping them down awfully quickly -- I would be surprised if I hadn't reached for The Thirteen-Gun Salute by week's end -- but they're so good, is the thing, and the plotlines continue, so they slip easily one into the next when one has them handy. And they look like they'll bear rereading, so I'm not worrying too much about it. As for Scardown, I've just started it and am just moving back into the world of Jenny Casey et al; can't say much beyond that. Except that I'm glad to be moving back into that world, which is saying something.

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