Wednesday

The Activities Director here knocked on my door yesterday and asked me when my birthday was.  Why do I have qualms about telling her?  What do they do to you on your birthday here?

Many, many years ago when I was in college, the girls in my dorm all ate in the dormitory cafeteria.  They always had a special desert for monthly birthdays.  So I thought I was being clever, and held up my hand when they asked who had a birthday in October.  My birthday is in January.  Everyone else got yummy strawberry shortcake for desert.  Those of us with October birthdays got a dried up brownie, on which the cook had mistakenly sprinkled flour instead of powdered sugar.

Maybe that's why I still have a problem telling anyone when my birthday is.

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I stayed for lunch at Rendezvous Pointe after art group today.  They had some soup that was unique and delicious.  It was apple/bacon/tomato soup.

I worked some on the pencil drawing of the wild horse, and am not sure how to finish it.  He was a dapple gray stud, so had some faint markings on him.  He also had lots of scars from fighting, making him look like an Appaloosa.  I don't know how much of the marks to put on him.  I guess that's why they invented erasers. 

There were three girls out behind the kitchen when I left this morning, on a cigarette break.  I visited with them a bit.  I quit smoking many years ago, and I love the smell of cigarette smoke, especially when it's outdoors.  I just don't like the smell when it penetrated into photo albums or books thirty years ago. 

 

Teachers can be so narrow minded!