1. Perfume, from Dr. T., proving that he does listen occasionally;
2. A g-mail account from Bill (and inspiration from blork – the address is gmaggie[at]gmail[dot]com. Gthanks, gblork.);
3. Mystic River from Steve ‘n’ Dina;
4. Incense and scented candles;
5. Half a Caesar salad from my buddy who only discovered it was my birthday halfway through lunch;
6. A tree from the world’s greatest mother-in-law, albeit sans partridge; once the massive, horrible, dangerous current (not currant) tree is removed, a new, lovely, flowery crab apple will take its place and all will be right in the world;
7. A Stone Angel, from Mum:
She’s real stone, too. None of this resin crap. Well done, Mum!
Dina believes this means that my mother wants to be buried in my garden.
She looks pretty! RIP
Mum says that (1) she has no plans to be buried anywhere in the immediate future, and (2) your non-invite was not a snub. No, no, no.
Dad, on the other hand, says Mum strategized for weeks to find exactly the right way to piss you off.