Yesterday was not the best birthday ever. For a start, deadlines and panics meant I had to go to work, and it was a frustrating day with all sorts of technical problems putting us even further behind (though on the plus side, one of the analysts did go out and get pastries for afternoon tea as a birthday treat for me, which was sweet of him). And I wasn’t feeling all that birthday-ish anyway – what with post-nuclear family meltdowns, and a spot of rockiness on the home front this week, there’s been a definite deep dark pit of despair vibe in the air recently.
Oh, and to totally top off the day, there was an earthquake yesterday – just a 4.0, which to us toughened Cantabrians hardly rates a mention these days, except that I was sitting on the toilet at the time! And there really is nothing more disconcerting than feeling that rumble and wondering whether this will be a big one, and if so, are you going to be able to get your pants up in time?
But MrPloppy did his best to get me in a happy birthday sort of mood, with some really thoughtful and fantastic presents (highlight is the 150th anniversary edition of Darwin’s On the Origin of Species, which is a gorgeous book, combining the original text with contemporary and modern illustrations of various species he mentions, and sidebars with biographical details and extracts from his other writing – weighs a tonne though, so I don’t think I’ll be reading it in bed…), and an attempt at a birthday cake (except the never-fail recipe he used somehow failed, and it didn’t rise properly – but I did appreciate the thought, if not so much the cake). So it wasn’t all bad, really.
Otherwise, life has just been full of work and study. I did force myself to take a break last weekend and do something fun instead of hitting the books yet again, and spent a few hours pleasantly ensconced in my long-neglected embroidery project:
Until of course I ended up with a kitten on my lap and had to stop and hide the dangling thread temptations.
Talking of kittens, I should probably post some pictures (more difficult than it sounds with Parsnips, who is such a bundle of energy and craziness that most of the photos I’ve attempted just show a blur).
They alternate their time between destroying the house and decimating Christchurch’s weta population (seriously – I think they bring in at least one a day at the moment, and chase it round the house until the poor thing has lost all its legs, at which point they get bored and leave it for us to find… I’m just glad we only get the little ones down here, not the giants!)