Propane, Birthday And Jazz

This will probably be a dull post for anyone. It's more for me.

For Tuesday night's dinner, we had a whole chicken to roast up. Got the oven going and popped the little guy in there..  After about half an hour, Don says, something is wrong. Have you looked at the propane gauge lately, he asks me. Um, yes, I did late last week, and I've been meaning to call to order more, but forgot. He goes out into the cold and dark, kicks away the snow and ice, checks the gauge. It gets stuck sometimes.

Yep. We was flat out a gas. Ha!

Oops. My fault.

Not to worry.. we've got the wood stove cranking down stairs in the basement! Pulled out the giant cast iron pot, plopped the bird in there with a bunch of water and chicken stock and potatoes, put on the lid and placed it on the wood stove. Within minutes, I could smell the chicken a bubblin' away. Though we ate a half hour later than usual, that chicken just fell off the bone. It was fantastic.

The next day was my birthday.

The sun was out, the temps were rising. I settled in and and answered as many facebook birthday greetings as I could, then gratefully greeted the propane delivery man as he came to add one hundred gallons to the tank. I'm on a "on call" basis, and this was the first time in eight years that I let the tank get all the way down to zero. He helped me make sure we got the system back on safely, and also checked our gas stove. Nice guy, and I didn't even blurt out to him that it was my birthday. I guess I really am getting old.

Soon, I headed out for my weekly two mile walk with my neighbor. She gave me a gift of a nice bottle of Spanish red called "Red Guitar," and we had a lovely walk. With each step, the sun got brighter and the air got warmer.

After my walk, I lolled about some more, doing one of my favorite things, which is nothing.

Around two, there was a knock on the door, and a young man delivered me a bouquet of red and red and white tulips.. a gift from my girlfriend down in Maryland. She's been having flowers delivered to my house every year on my birthday for the last six or seven years now, such a sweet gesture!

Naturally, the delivery boy got stuck in our icy, snowy driveway. I don't know what he was thinking when he pulled into it. Don came out and we spent the next twenty minutes helping the kid's beat up old shit box Honda get up and out of our driveway. "Remind me to buy more sand and salt tomorrow, Don," I said once the kid peeled out of there.

Then Dad came over, with yet another beautiful bouquet of red tulips, and a beautiful card that he carefully chose, knowing that my mother would have liked, too. He slipped a few twenty's in the card, too. He hung around for a while, enjoying our kitten, then he lumbered back home.

I showered up and answered birthday phone calls from some of my "besties," then Don and I headed out to our home away from home bar and restaurant, Bray's Brew Pub. We got a table, ordered dinner and drinks (red wine for me, a Porter for Don), and settled in to watch and listen to the jazz trio performing on the little stage. Electric piano, upright bass and trumpet. These kids, two just graduating from university this year, did a nice job performing originals and standards. I especially enjoyed "The Girl From Ipanema." Later, while the waitress brought a fancy chocolate dessert with a birthday candle in it, the trumpet player improvised "Happy Birthday To You" during his solo over "Take The A Train," which was a very sweet thing. I got a big kick out of that! We hung around for another forty-five minutes or so, then split during their last break.

A lovely evening and birthday, all in all, despite it being the first one without my mother. I wore Mom's old wedding ring during the night, which I only wear on special occasions when I want her with me.

More cake to come this Saturday, I think, when the band comes over for more work on our CD and video. Can't have enough cake!