Tag Archives: Mike

Birthday, Birthday…

What do you get when you layer fabulous hometown beer, grilled steaks, and triple chocolate mousse cake? An amazing birthday. Yesterday was my birthday, I’m inching closer to the big 4-0 and I’m actually feeling pretty good about it. It helps to have a wonderful husband who is 12 years older and has very little sympathy for me where the aging process is concerned.

Mike is going to be 50 this year and he still gets up every morning and wages a life or death struggle with his ridiculous cat. That is a man who is not going quietly into senility by any stretch. I really have very little room to complain about 40 looming out there, just two years away.

I also have to appreciate a man who will stretch my birthday into an entire weekend of celebrating. Our family is notorious for stretching out birthdays and my birthday was certainly no exception. We celebrated all weekend long and it was wonderful!!

Saturday we spent a few hours at Lengthwise Pub. We indulged in the Zeus Imperial IPA (probably the only IPA I actually enjoy) and some fabulous food. I also had a Truffle, Lengthwise Kern County Crude Porter mixed with their Raspberry Wheat. It made for a delightful, chocolate-y, coffee, raspberry, dessert beer. I’m a dark beer girl at heart so this was the ideal way to end our trip to Lengthwise.

Sunday morning we rolled out of bed and headed to a local breakfast spot, J&M’s Bar & Grill. Mike had the homemade corned beef hash and eggs with a side of biscuits and gravy. I had the eggs benedict and the girls had pancakes and french toast. The eggs benedict was really fabulous. I’m picky about my hollandaise sauce and this one fit the bill nicely. It was the ideal way to start the day of my official birthday.

We spent the day visiting some nurseries in town. Our weather has been so spring-like lately that we almost forgot it was still January. It was a great day just hanging out with family and enjoying a little sunshine and mild weather.

One of the highlights of my birthday was logging into Facebook and seeing all the sweetest, birthday wishes from friends and family. I am really blessed to know some amazing people and have some of the sweetest friends on the planet.

Sunday morning I found myself tagged on instagram with the sweetest birthday collage ever:

Birthday collage

Katie is the most thoughtful daughter a mom could ever want. Each one of these pictures is a really great memory for me. There is Katie’s first birthday up in the top right corner and the bottom slide is from a baseball game last summer. Needless to say, this was a really special and very thoughtful treat.

We ended my birthday with a fabulous dinner. Mike grilled gorgeous steaks and we had a great dinner with all the trimmings. My birthday cake this year was an amazing triple chocolate mousse cake. There really aren’t enough words to describe the decadence of that cake, it was truly a cake fit to cap off an amazing birthday weekend.

Of course, after all that weekend indulgence the girls and I were out first thing this morning for a 2 mile run. 😉

Now to figure out how to fill the next 11 months until my next birthday! 😉 We have lots of adventures planned this year so I bet it will fly by!

Worst. Cat. EVER.

It is the truest testament to the old saying, you don’t choose a cat, a cat chooses you, when I tell you that my husband is the proud slave owner of the worst cat in the existence of cats. If someone made a movie titled, “Rosemary’s Cat” it would star Vi.

Violet, Vi, worst cat everMeet Vi, short for Violet, named for Vi’s Cocktails which is where a friend found her abandoned. I’m a sucker for a stray furbaby and this little bit was teeny-tiny and slept in the crook of my arm or Katie’s arm for the first two months we had her.

After that we started calling her Violent. Which was sort of cute, but not really. Vi likes to eat the cords to cell phone chargers, video game controllers, bubble wrap, and has a wild addiction to cardboard boxes. She hides under the couch and waits for someone to sit down so she can rip their feet apart. Katie has friends who tell tales of assassination attempts by Vi.

Vi will bite you when you pet her, attack you for absolutely no reason whatsoever, and the only person in the house she will be absolutely docile with is Maggie. Maggie can pick this cat up and carry her around like a teddy bear and Vi will accept it. If Kate or I try any such nonsense she does her level best to open an artery.

As nice as she is to Maggie it’s entirely understandable if you are completely confused as to why I say she is Mike’s cat. In the pantry we had a box of canned cat food. Molly, our resident feline Queen, will not touch canned cat food, she will only eat canned tuna. In an attempt to make pantry space, Mike began feeding Vi, what he now refers to as, “meaty bits” a term that repulses all the other females in the house but is apparently music to Vi’s ears.

It wasn’t long before Vi began whining outside our bedroom door every morning usually long before 7am. Much to my irritation Vi doesn’t seem to care whether it is Tuesday or a glorious sleep-in Saturday morning. If the door is slightly cracked she will burst through it like a two year old on Christmas morning. Every. Morning. This is followed by her jamming her head into Mike’s face, purring loudly, and licking his toes should they be exposed.

Every morning I find myself witness to the “bathroom dance” which includes Vi prancing around Mike as he gets dressed, attempting to claw his feet from under the bathroom door while he is, ahem, indisposed, waiting for him outside the shower door, and sitting next to the sink while he brushes his teeth.

The next step to “meaty bits” involves her attempting to kill Mike as he makes his way down the stairs and she weaves in and out of his feet. This part of the journey also entails Mike, not quietly, telling her to “get out of the way!” unless it’s a grumpy morning and then it sounds more like, “Hey! Get the HELL out of my way! DAMMIT!” and more than a few times the cat has accidentally been kicked down the stairs. This does absolutely nothing to dampen her enthusiasm or her love of all things Mike-related.

All of this is followed by what some might term, “the big show” or Vi, Violet, worst cat ever“the big finale.” Vi prances around the kitchen, nearly getting knocked unconscious by the refrigerator door, still weaving in and out of Mike’s feet as he spoons “meaty bits” into her bowl and Mike explains to her (every single day) how much he hates cats and how he never wanted a cat. After this she eats it, licks the bowl clean, and sleeps under his chair while he works.

Lest you mistakenly think, much like Mike did at one time, that her “affection” is tied to the aforementioned “meaty bits” let me assure you that this could not be further from the truth. We listened to Mike bemoan this tragedy that had befallen him which included things like, “if just ONE of you would give her meaty bits, she would leave me alone!” and “She only does this because I’M the ONLY one who will FEED her!”

I was sick of listening to him complain and decided to test his theory. I got up and got dressed WITHOUT being molested by the cat, I might add. I went downstairs, safely and without incident. I arrived in my kitchen to find Vi following several paces behind me after she had made sure that Mike was not going to get up. She did not follow me around the kitchen. Instead she jumped onto the back of a chair and half watched me and half stared out the sliding glass door.

I wanted to make a solid effort so I dramatically opened the fridge and made noises at her. No response. I took the can of “meaty bits” out of the fridge and waggled it in her direction. Nothing. I got a spoon and tapped it on the can, no dice. I walked over and dished out her usual ration, she yawned, climbed down, and ate it.

Thirty minutes later the sound of Vi tangling up in Mike’s feet as he made his way down the stairs could be heard from three houses away, maybe four.

“Would you get off me! I hate cats!” He shouted as he made his way to the kitchen and the refrigerator. “Hey, I thought I still had a can of meaty bits in here?” He asked into the fridge.

“I already fed her.”

“You what???” Followed by a slight pause. “Awwww, her needs her meaty bits from her dad, yes her does.”

He baby talked to the cat. I wish I were joking. On the upside, he has stopped insisting she only likes him for the food. An added bonus is that she now purrs at me and expects me to pet her in the morning as long as Mike is still in bed and the great “Meaty Bits Processional” has not begun.

She is the first cat to have ever made me want a dog.

A big dog. A big dog that eats cats.

Happy Birthday, Babe!

Happy Birthday to my wonderful husband and life partner. I adore this man with all of my heart even more today than I did that first moment I realized I had fallen for the guy with those sparkly, baby blue, eyes.

This man has been by my side through thick and thin. We’ve had some down and out moments but he’s my rock. The hot fudge to my sundae, the banana to my split, burger to my bun, the ketchup to my fries, the chips to my salsa, the Harley to my Davidson…

You get the picture?

Happy Birthday Mike

Happy Birthday, Mike!

All my love!