There were kids and parents and grandparents and cupcakes and hotdogs and fruit kebabs and veggie kebabs and hula hoops and bubbles and a pinata. And lots of pink and lots of presents. Josie had a fine time with her cohort of little girls.
He doesn't like having his picture made (neither do I) so I'm making do with one from his college days --I've always loved how happy he looks, in spite of the bougainvillea that seems to be growing out of his ear.
After the scare a while back with the pulmonary embolism, this birthday seems like a time to be extra thankful for my precious older son. He's an amazing guy -- but if I say too much, I'll begin to get corny and he doesn't like that either.
So I'll just say that it's been a joy having the amazing pleasure of Ethan's wit and wisdom and wonder these past thirty-seven years and we look forward to many, many more birthday celebrations.
A sad note is that after years of happily telecommuting to their jobs in Atlanta from their house here on the farm, Ethan and Aileen are having to move back to Atlanta this fall. Their employer, White Wolf Publishing, is making significant alterations in the product line and the bosses want everyone on site to help facilitate the changes.
Bummer, says I. But we've had the great good fortune to have both boys and their partners living here for quite a few years. So when the time comes, we'll wish them well, wave goodbye, and look forward to the next occasion we'll all be together.
I think it's the law they have to come back for Thanksgiving or Christmas . . . and birthdays.
