Bye Bye, Birthday

January 30, 2012 § Leave a comment

The past two weeks have been quite the high time. Birthdays do that to me. It wouldn’t be the same without people to share it with, though. So, share it I did!

The day, a Wednesday, started out with the sweet sound of tapping on glass, otherwise known as my text message alert. The birthday wishes started coming in via text, phone call, Facebook post and message. I gobbled them all up, all day long, with my smile growing ever wider. Then, my parents took me out to a nice local restaurant with a flavorful menu. I had a massive pork chop with an apple and dried cherry chutney atop cheese grits and green beans on the side. My father enjoyed some blackened amberjack, my mom, bacon-wrapped scallops.

Back at home, we assembled the 3-layer cake my sweet mom had baked earlier. After a mild fiasco born of an impatience to whip the chocolate frosting from the refrigerator before it came to room temp like the recipe said, we were all happily munching tall slices. Yellow cake with chocolate frosting has long been my favorite. For this year, my mom executed the one from this cookbook. 

So, stuffed to the gills, I went to bed very happy. Oh, but not before checking Facebook a few more times for late night birthday wishes.

For the weekend, I convinced a few friends to go to a barrel race about an hour away from Birmingham. I borrowed a pair of cowboy boots from a coworker to look the part. For some reason, my inner cowgirl, the horse-loving 12-year-old I had been, steered me to look for such an event. We saw many impressive runs, a few for their skill and some for their unfortunate missteps. In a barrel race, a horse and rider are timed as they complete a cloverleaf pattern around three barrels and race back out the way they came. It was a random birthday thing to do, and I enjoyed most just riding in the car with my three friends there and back, being surrounded by laughter.

We followed our outing with dinner at Leonardo’s, an Italian place that serves these chewy, doughy, puffy rolls in a bowl of melted butter, parmesan and spices like oregano. I’d go there just to eat those they’re so good. Carboloading is not a bad way to end any night, I say.

The next day, it was time for a celebratory brunch with my parents, my brother, and my grandmother. We feasted (seems like a theme, eh?) on French toast battered and fried to an almost funnel cake like consistency, a croque-monsieur for my mom, and a potato and egg scramble with a side of biscuits and gravy for the brother.

A few more presents, or, in the case of my procrastinating parents, wrapped pictures of promises of presents, later, my 29th birthday had been thoroughly rung in.

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