Tuesday was my birthday. It was a good day, pretty quiet at work so I got lots done and then the Beavers had a party for me. Lots of balloons and cupcakes, tin-foil crowns and red Kool-aid, first time I've ever played musical chairs to Nickelback, hordes of six-year-olds giggling, we read stories and then Karen and Patti and I went back to Patti's place for the more grown-up portion of the evening, some wine. Not much, though, because Wednesday is of course a work day.
Kirsten and Rachel made me a beautiful cheesecake, from scratch. It was cooling in the fridge and when Ian opened the door at one point, it escaped and fell on the floor. I understand there were tears, I wasn't there, but really the cake was wonderfully tasty and we covered it with berries so the damage didn't show. Really it's the first time in a long time that anyone made me a cake without any pathetic prompting from me. (Nobody ever makes me a birthday cake. sniff)
This weekend we're off to Yellowknife to do some Christmas shopping, because of the miracle of Aeroplan.
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