Happy birthday and a sad Independence Day

Oh my, the joys and sorrows of having a birthday right around the 4th of July. When I was young, I disliked having my birthday get lost in the shuffle of the holiday. When I was older (and stopped having formal parties) I discovered that it was fun to mix the two together. I still enjoy it, to some extent, but in a year when the country is coming apart at the seams, it makes the birthday so sad too!

We have two giant American flags (from Rocket Boy's retirement from federal service -- they sent him one, and then a few weeks later another, accidentally), so it seemed like it would be nice to hang one up. But we didn't want people to think we were (a) Republicans, or (b) DJT supporters, or (c) people who think the country is going in the right direction. So I got the bright idea to get a Pride Flag, especially because the current version of the Pride Flag also has the white-pink-blue of the Trans Flag and some brown and black stripes to represent people of color. In other words, all the people the current Administration is targeting! 

This was an OK week. Monday we went to the oral surgeon for our consultations, and made appointments for me to get a tooth pulled and the kids to get their wisdom teeth out. Teen A's look a lot worse than Teen B's -- they're turned sideways and will have to be dug out. But he's tough. Teen B's are actually starting to poke through his gums, so they'll be fairly easy to get out, which is good, because he's not tough. He's very worried about the IV, but I really think he needs to be asleep for this, ditto Teen A, so we're going with full anesthesia. 

I'm going to be awake for my procedure, hope that's OK. I am dreading mine, which will be tomorrow. They're going to take blood from me and mix it with bone from a cadaver to make the bone graft. That just sounds so macabre. Probably it will be nothing. I hope. 

On Thursday, Rocket Boy and I went to the Denver Museum, just to have something to do and because we hadn't been there in a while. (The twins did not want to come with us.) We're members, and we didn't use our membership ONCE last year. They're in the process of enlarging and changing the museum yet again, so some things weren't open and some things needed work, but we did go see one special exhibit: "Jurassic Oceans: Monsters of the Deep." It was OK. It cost $8 for me and $6 for Rocket Boy (because he's a senior -- I was still two days away from being a senior). It seemed like a lot to us, only $1 less than non-members, but then we're getting old and everything sounds like a lot. 

Traffic was terrible, both going and coming (the day before the 3-day weekend), but we made it home, and then I hopped back in the car and went to McGuckin's to get their last Pride Flag. Broadway and downtown were just a zoo, with Phish fans wandering all over everywhere, crossing against the light, etc. (Phish was playing three concerts at the CU stadium, on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights.) But I succeeded in my mission and we hung both flags on the morning of the 4th. We'll take them down today, I guess. Or maybe we'll leave up the Pride Flag for a while.

Friday was kind of a lazy day, otherwise. I took a nap and missed the PBS NewsHour -- mostly intentionally. The BUB passed the day before and I guess it was signed on Friday and I didn't want to hear about it. So I skipped it. Rocket Boy watched.

Rocket Boy cleaned the barbecue -- we can't remember when we last used it -- and we grilled vegetables, hot dogs, and a piece of swordfish, cut into chunks. 

Teen A was off with friends, so he didn't join us (he claimed, via text, that he was climbing a mountain near NCAR). I ate a hot dog and then stopped -- too full, just from that. Teen B spotted the portobello mushroom caps on the plate and grabbed one and ate the whole thing. Munch munch munch. Then he took a skewer and started eating the vegetables off it. I was stunned. He didn't even eat a hot dog. Maybe he had one piece of fish, I'm not sure. But I sat there thinking, "I did something right! I somehow managed to raise my son right, in this one little way -- he's voluntarily eating vegetables!"

You could hear the concert from our house -- not enough to recognize individual songs, just this sort of vague music-ish noise (not that I would recognize a Phish song). Also, of course, fireworks were going off all over. Boom! Boom! Our next-door neighbors and tenants set off fireworks in their backyard and in the street. Rocket Boy went over to watch -- I just couldn't. Too afraid of fire. We've had a lot of rain this year, so things aren't super dry, but still... I guess they had a hose at the ready and sprayed down everything after lighting each one, but still.

Around 10 pm or so, Rocket Boy and I decided to walk to the park to see if anybody was shooting off fireworks there. Some teenagers were having a good time, shooting fireworks at each other (very dangerous) and screaming. We sat down on the bleachers by the baseball diamond to watch from a distance. Then we saw the teenagers go over to the Portapotty by the picnic structure. They threw something inside it and slammed the door. BOOM! The explosion was the loudest one yet, and flames came out of the Portapotty on both sides. But the Portapotty itself seemed to be intact. So they did it again. BOOM!!! I mean, really really loud. I decided I'd better call 911, so I did, but the dispatcher wasn't very interested. "We'll drive by and check it out," he said. And by then the teenagers were wandering off, so we did too.

Back at home, I texted Teen A to see if he needed a ride from wherever he was. He said "Maybe," but he ended up just getting home by himself, in some unknown way, around 12:30 am. He had asked us to leave the back door unlocked, but I just waited up for him. There was no way anyone was getting any sleep, in any case, due to all the continuing explosions. When he finally got home, he sat on the couch for a while, texting with his friends. I told him about the exploding Portapotty. "Mom, I know," he said. 

"Were you there?" I asked. We hadn't seen him, but it was very dark and there were a lot of teenagers there.

"I was everywhere tonight," he told me. "I went by it twice, afterwards."

Hmm. 

The next day, Teen B showed me that Teen A had posted a photo of the inside of the exploding Portapotty on Instagram, but it was after the fact. He didn't have any photos of the actual explosions. So maybe he's telling the truth, maybe he just went by afterwards. (Note: this is my photo, from a day or two later. The Portapotty didn't sustain as much damage as we might have expected. But it's gone now, hauled away to the Portapotty repair shop, I suppose.)

Teen A is having a very fun summer, even without a car. I feel as though the lack of a car is in some ways making his summer MORE fun. He gets rides from friends, he borrows bikes, he walks all over town. He also seems to be managing just fine on his $20/week allowance (from his social security money). And this could be his last fun summer, if he has an apprenticeship next summer. We'll see.

The next day was my birthday and I made the strawberry bundt cake from the NY Times cooking section that I had been planning on making for a while. It turned out kind of meh. I used a combination of strawberries and raspberries on the inside (and a mixture of strawberry and raspberry yogurt), and just raspberries in the glaze that went on top, because half of the strawberries I'd bought had already rotted. I think it would have been better if I could have found GOOD strawberries, like what we used to get in Ridgecrest. 

It turned out more like a coffee cake than a birthday cake. It was OK. I had a piece for breakfast this morning and Teen B did too, so maybe it'll gradually get eaten. But it's not as good as the banana bread coffee cake that I make a lot. Very dense and fruity. I don't think I would make this again.

Other than the cake -- which was actually fine -- I had a really nice birthday. I got cards from three friends, my sisters, Rocket Boy and the kids, and our next door neighbor. Also emails from a friend and a cousin, and a phone call a couple days before from another friend. I loved Rocket Boy's card. It had a picture of a bald eagle on the front, and inside it said, "Continue to be fierce, be bold, be you. Happy Birthday." I thought that was such a lovely sentiment to receive from a husband! A lot of husbands might not appreciate a wife who was fierce and bold. I don't know if I really am those things, but I have definitely felt like that this spring/summer, and it felt good to be appreciated.

My older sister also sent some lovely gifts, which is her specialty -- no one can pick out presents like she can. And Rocket Boy had some chocolate for me, but it had melted into a lump. Today he got online and ordered me some of the tea I enjoyed when I stayed with my friends in Michigan -- Fortnum & Mason Royal Blend. And the planter we picked out will arrive Thursday, they estimate. So maybe next weekend we'll go pick out some more flowers for it.

We ate out at Chautauqua, which used to be my favorite place to go on my birthday, but I hadn't been there in a while. We don't think we'd EVER taken the twins there to eat (they'd been to Chautauqua, but not for a meal). I had a chicken mole dish for my main course -- chicken's not my thing, but I just couldn't turn down mole when I saw it on the menu, so delicious. And then for dessert I made a mistake -- since I had been disappointed by my birthday cake, I ordered a large piece of chocolate cake. And I've been sick ever since! 

Oh, it's OK. I haven't thrown up, but I felt really sick when I went to bed, in fact I put something to throw up into next to the bed, and when I woke up this morning I still felt sick. So it'll be a good transition into not being able to eat (after my oral surgery tomorrow). All I've had so far today (it's almost 5 pm) is a piece of my birthday cake, an iced horchata oatmilk shaken espresso from Starbucks, and a lot of tea with milk. I love that horchata thing, by the way. I think about it all week. I looked to see if other people love it, and there's a whole long post on Reddit about how much people hate it, which means, I suppose, that it won't last long. I still love it.

But Teen B reminded me that when it goes away, pumpkin spice lattes will come back, and I love them too, so it'll be OK. 

Despite the dessert debacle, it was so neat to be at Chautauqua with the whole family. I felt really lucky, really blessed, if I can use that term. Chautauqua is such a lovely place, and being there on a July evening was just beyond delightful. It wasn't too hot. There was a little thunder and it rained briefly. There were people playing catch on the lawn, a magpie flying by, a beautiful hanging basket above our table. It was kind of like we'd taken an exotic vacation for my 65th birthday -- except all we did was drive one mile north and one mile west. We could have walked. I *have* walked it (well, I've walked home from there). 

I'm really lucky to live here. 

I haven't done a Mounjaro report in a while. I was thinking I'd switch to doing them once a month, giving what my weight is on the first of the month. So, to start, here is my weight on the first day of each month of 2025 so far.

• January 1: 228.8
• February 1: 226.2
• March 1: 224.2
• April 1: 224 
• May 1: 221.4
• June 1: 222.6
• July 1: 217.8

You can see how the weight keeps going down, even though there are little blips. It's still kind of amazing to me. I wish I felt better on this stupid drug, but I'm glad I'm continuing to get smaller. At this rate, a year from now I could weigh less than 200 pounds.

So now I am 65. I haven't managed to sign up for Medicare yet, but I have a phone appointment for Thursday to get that all set up (there was a problem with the social security website when I tried to set this up this week). We have federal employee health insurance for life (assuming that isn't tampered with, and I don't want to think about that), but I still need to sign up for Medicare Part A. 

If I ride the bus somewhere from now on it will cost me only $1.35 for a 3-hour pass (instead of $2.75). The twins are currently free -- until they turn 19, after which they will have to pay $2.75. Funny how I'm easing into cheaper fares and admission fees and whatnot, just as the twins are about to ease into more expensive ones. I hope they will be able to get jobs that will pay for all this. We shall see.

What do I have planned for my 65th year? (or actually my 66th year, if you want to get technical about it). My year of being 65, how's that? Not much. Just getting through the twins' last year of high school, helping them navigate it, helping them plan what comes next. Keeping the family afloat, doing the housework and laundry and cooking. Reading a lot, writing when I can. Protesting! Standing up to the horrid DJT administration. And staying open to whatever the world needs from me, I guess. Trying not to be afraid and not to get discouraged. Even if everything is ruined by these people, it can still be fixed later, maybe by people who come after me, if this turns out to be a very long process.

As Alexei Navalny said, about the corrupt regime in Russia: "One day, we will look at it, and it won't be there. Victory is inevitable. But for now, we must not give up, and we must stand by our beliefs." Alexei Navalny was murdered for standing up for his beliefs. The least I can do is keep trying.