When I awoke yesterday, I anticipated the first birthday greeting of the day fromy my prince charming. Instead, morning, noon and early afternoon passed without so much as an indication of awareness that it was my birthday. As the Duke game played out, so did I act out, only to learn that Sunday was March 28th, not the 29th…my birthday. So strange to have the wrong day for one’s own birthday, but so I did.
In a much better mood did I greet today, Monday, March 29th, and my card, propped where I didn’t stand a chance of missing it:
Sunday, birthday or not, was a day of preparation for tonight’s Passover sedar. I enjoy hostessing a sedar, although my southern background leaves a bit to be desired with adhering to all the rituals of this meal. But I get the high points covered, and that’s good enough.
As of an hour ago, the kitchen is clean and countertops covered with the table settings,
for which I was congratulating myself for being so on top of things. With guests due to arrive at six, I figured I had time to frou frou around, write a blog…important things of that ilk. Then my eyes opened to what I’ve conveniently become used to over the past month: every
will become the new exhibit. With two hours to go before the doorbell rings, I’m not quite in panic mode, just a bit hyper-ventilat-y. I figure I’ll pile everything back into the plastic bins and haul those into the sun room and throw pretty tablecloths over the whole kaboodle. Out of mind, sort of out of sight. Good enough.
The ray of sunshine in this whole thing is the dessert I baked yesterday for today’s sedar is now also my birthday cake. It’s from this month’s Bon Appetit (page 2). It’s actually a maccaroon torte, a huge reach on my part, and one I hope tastes as good as it looks.
Tie One On…an apron, of course!