Woe, woe, woe. Woe is me. I have a heavy birthday upon my back, and I don't know how to get rid of it. Hopefully today will be the last I have to hear of it for almost a year.
Still not great now, I was completely miserable on Devon's birthday. The poor thing was lucky to get supper at all, never mind a special birthday supper. And cake? Who can stomach the stuff? (Maybe one little boy who wasn't sick and didn't get any, but NOBODY ELSE, OKAY???)
Instead of having one modest party with a friend or two and some cousins, we have had an ongoing celebration for almost 6 weeks now, trying to help Devon feel less cheated about his birthday. In retrospect, I wish I had either crawled out of bed at the time, or just hired some entertainment. Since I didn't, we have done more for Devon's birthday over the last month-and-a-half than in the last five years rolled together.
Somewhere around five parties/occasions dedicated to Devon, and two cakes - three if you count all the cupcakes he got to take to the people at the nursing home, given in his honor. To (HOPEFULLY) bring the celebration to a final end for the whole rest of the year, Tina invited us out for a snow frolic, also in Devon's honor.
Devon did quite well,
and so did Laura, right up until the last moment, when both skis stopped and she kept going. With grace and beauty, she whirled and pirouetted before dropping into a drift. Rescue Dog Finley rushed to her aid.
After all of us were clumped with snow, soaked, and cold, it was time to go inside for hot chocolate - also in honor of Devon, of course - and get ready to go home.
Tired from the adventure,