Happy 13th birthday, Papa!

Papaya turned 13 last Saturday.

I was late to the party: No gifts (delayed shipping). No special treats (forgot about my stash of Greenies). Not even good weather.

When I finally threw her new Frisbee, she fetched only after I pointed and screeched about it. Her back legs are getting weaker, so things like running and jumping and getting in the car are less enticing. Yet I came home twice last week to see she had knocked over a floor lamp.

Oh no, Papa!

The great thing is, even at 91 or so years old, she is as enthusiastic as ever about company. Not just me, either — Katy, Sarah, and Anna at brunch, Terry at coffee, the mailman at my parents' house.

Thanks for all the lovins, Pops!

Peter's birthday and March Madness

Life moves so fast: One day you're eating lasagna in honor of Peter and the next you're scrambling to make your tourney picks and wondering why people think Cal can't beat UNLV.

Sigh.

Even though St. Paddy's and Peter's celebration are so last Sunday, I didn't want them to go by without a little toast.

So Peter, in this world of deadlines and tournaments, happy birthday. Here's to your low-maintenance ways and high-energy tennis game. We appreciate them both!

P.S. If anyone wants the recipe (and some backstory) for the chocolate mint cake, they're here. As for the cool shades, you'll have to ask Nancy about those!