Happy Birthday to Me. . .

I got myself a little flowery birthday cheer. . . while on a walk with the dogs last night.  I can pass on jewelry and chocolates--well most of the time on the chocolates--but I'm a sucker for flowers.  And I am not snobby about my flowers.  I prefer no roses--unless they come from my rose bushes.  Daisies and tulips, peonies and hydrangea, lilacs and forget-me-nots.  Pick them from the garden or buy them at the grocery store or market.  I'm easily pleased.

But my husband is not one to think of getting flowers, at least not since the second year we were married.  It is so well known that he does NOT buy me flowers, that one year a friend bought me flowers and had them delivered with Rob's name on them.  He didn't have the good sense to pretend he'd sent them!

But that's okay.  I know where to get my own flowers, and as often as not they come from my garden (at least in the summer months).  Or, last night, from a tree down the street.  The girls and I walked the dogs after dark and on the way back I snagged a branch of lovely little pink plum blossoms.  I also bought myself a handful of pink tulips over the weekend.  My house is feeling quite cheery and fresh.

They make me smile. It's a good way to start any day, but extra nice on my birthday.

And Rob may not buy me flowers, but he makes sure to fill my car with gas and my wallet with cash, which is good, because today I am spending my birthday shopping.

I am headed to the antique district looking for treasures.  Wish me luck!

***And happy birthday Dad.  Have fun at our party for me--eat an extra piece of cake and pretend I was there to enjoy it with you***