Still staying at the home of our new friend, Josh, we had a little birthday party this evening. Busy preparations for our celebratory dinner of carrot soup, inspired by the sweet book of that name. (We also enjoyed Chestnut variety apples that we harvested the other day in our apple, walnut, goat feta salad.) Colorful cards for Belly. And Papa S even brought some wine in honor of the Grand Dame . . .
This children loved blowing out the candles on her dish of ice cream with a carob-covered almond on top. . .
I only wish I could have taken her to the beach today for a little dip in the salt water.
And yes, she seems to have recovered from her fall. Back to her normal limp and cheered by her birthday celebration and bone.
Dear, dear Belly. I am amazed when I reflect on these past 14 years together! She sustained me through my second childhood in San Francisco, supported me as I struggled to find out who I am, kept me warm through so many nights and was my constant companion through lonely days. She longed for children when I did, though our longings were differently fueled--hers by thoughts of stroller snacks and table droppings, mine by biology and a wish to share the love in my heart. But for those years, she was the willing sponge for that flow of love, absorbing from me the love and the angst. In my office in Arcata, she stayed comfortable in her big bed by the window, inviting patients to begin to relax by giving her a warm rub.
The children wished her Happy Birthday all day long.
And yes, she still sleeps with me, even if I have to help her into the bed.