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A lovely birthday so far. When I woke up, the sun was shining! It's the first time in days, if not weeks. The snow has reached Wayne Thiebaud levels--swags and scallops of perfect white poured over everything, like cupcake frosting. It is ferociously cold, as I learned when I went to excavate my driveway from the plow ridge. As I was digging away, the florist's delivery car pulled up with a gorgeous, colorful bouquet from the kids, with a sweet note and some extra chocolate attached. As soon as the chariot was ready, we drove to our favorite diner to have breakfast--in my case, the so-called Healthy Waffle with a side of ham. We got cake slices to go, for later. And then we had quite an adventure as we tried to carry out our plan of visiting the art museum. Having navigated the snow-encrusted and obstructed streets until we got downtown again, and found a parking spot, we nearly got frostbite just walking from the parking to the museum, only to find a little note on the door saying the museum was closed "due to severe weather." So we had to walk back without even getting to warm up. The Sparrowhawk was nearly frozen and we had to sit in the car with the heater blasting for a few minutes before we could head home. Then we agreed to STAY home and revel in the warmth for the rest of the day. I had calls from friends and family. Then we had candles and shared a slice of carrot cake, and I opened a gift from Queenie. Seventy-five years! I really cannot fathom it, so I will just face forward and keep going. Drive on! as the Colonel would say.