Done, But Not Yet Dusted...

My birthday was fun. Unfortunately, the camera's batteries were flat, so no pictures this time. I had dinner with two librarian friends, who came back to the flat for surprise cake provided by my two favourite neighbors. They supplied two small cheesecakes festooned with candles and birthday greetings.

The resident felines stayed out of the way, though Jacob, my ever-charming tuxedo, positioned himself in the centre of the group, the better to keep an eye on his human. He is always the hit at any party. I've never seen a cat garner as many compliments as Jacob. He is curious, friendly, vocal and has markings to die for, so my die-hard cat loving friends agree.

The festivities continued last night as another neighbour, her adult twin sons, their families and I shared our birthdays and conversation over cake and ice cream. Tomorrow, I will share dinner with yet another group of friends. My thanks to those who called, sent cards or popped in. In true diva spirit, I'm celebrating all month long.

I've also accepted the challenge of growing my hair. Gone are the spikes of my early middle age. I now sport a bob that has grown to just past my chin, and this only with the guidance and patience of a stylist I've known for 17 years. The ultimate goal is to grow my hair past the elbows and provide a donation of ten inches in a clean braid to a not-for-profit organisation known as Locks of Love that provides prosthetic hair pieces to children who've lost their hair due to a medical condition such as cancer. These can be worn swimming, during sports or in the shower and the child will never fear losing his or her hair again.

Every year, two weeks prior to my birthday, I commemorate the death of my mother due to cancer, usually with a charitable donation of some kind. I did the same this year but also felt the desire to do something a bit more personal. Because I know that hair loss can be a traumatic reminder of the changes that accompany a cancer diagnosis, it seems fitting to try and ease that burden for a kid. Anyone interested can Google Locks of Love for further information.

Until Next Time...

Just When You Thought I'd Fallen From The Face Of The Earth...

It seems that I share a birthday with England's Queen Mother, Louis Armstrong and President Obama. My accomplishments as a mere mortal pale in the presence of these luminaries, however, I can happily report being alive, educated, a decent friend, concerned citizen, reasonably well travelled, an avid reader, bilingual, an animal lover and a fan of football as it is played outside the US.

While you might think that being alive is no great feat, in my case, it was. My then not quite twenty-one-year-old mother was told shortly after my early arrival to prepare for my demise. Instead, she waited until I gained enough weight, took me home, divorced her disaster of a husband, and got us both back to the security of her parents' home across the world in Central America. They worked for the US government abroad, and in growing up there, I became what is called a Third Culture Kid. Those of you who are interested can Google the term.

 Long before I heard those words, I knew how to hold my own in a conversation with anyone, had a broader view of the world and silently wished the notion of borders did not exist. I have always felt vaguely like I did not belong here, despite my birth certificate and citizenship. This has not improved with time.

Today, I worry for neighbours and friends who have lost work or face retirement in uncertain times. I think the leaders in both major parties are out of touch with average citizens' concerns and are not doing enough to make our lives liveable here. They also put too much effort in rhetoric and political agendas and not enough in reforms that make sense for everyone.

At almost 52, my life is not what I thought it would be nor is it what was planned. That said, it is still very worthwhile, and I must decide what the second half will contain, no easy feat.

Until Next Time...