It's Whose Birthday?

Based on a crowd of strangers standing around my table singing, I guess it's mine.

Today's the day, but I had to work and it was out of town. Squirrel games.


But last night there was about 15 hours off duty. So M., my squirrel back up, fetched me from my hotel room about supper time.

Where are we going?


Samurai Delicatessen!

You see, when I was a little girl, on our birthdays we got to eat in a restaurant. Eating out was a big treat in the late 60's, not something people do several times a week. The birthday person picked the place, cost was not a concern. It was our gift along with one other present to open. We kids all picked this Japanese restaurant an hour away in the city. It was very authentic with the tables about a foot off the floor and the waitresses dressed in kimono costumes.

But you didn't kneel, there was a big hole under the table so you sat on cushions and dangled our legs after leaving our shoes at the door. We were in our own little private dining room with shoji screens around and sweet smelling tatami mats on the floor. Soft stringed instruments played quietly.Silent, beutiful women who looked like grown up fairy girls to me, would bring out fragrant hot towels to wipe our hands. Then in colorful little bowls there were all sorts of wonderful little foods (tempura shrimp!) and chopsticks which could also double as swords. Food we never had at home, where cuisine was Norwegian or Scot/Irish meat and potatoes. As much of that cuisine has been classified as a sedative by the FDA, trying something new was an adventure for we little ones. I'd mentioned this tradition to M. one time when we were probably staking out a cinnamon donut and he remembered.

Ahhh. Adult beverages.

Tempura!

Back at my hotel we had a shot of Jamesons at the restaurant lounge downstairs and a toast to a lot of adventures and more to come. When I went to go to the bathroom and came back, about 15 young people who had been sitting in the restaurant area having drinks suddenly came over to our table and sang Happy Birthday to me, making a quite talented Broadway show style performance out of it. I turned bright red and clapped and M. thanked them, pointing at me saying, "Hard to believe she she used to be a pole dancer!" The girls all then told me I still looked awesome while I turned even more red.

But no pole dancing career or not, it really made me laugh, though I did remind M. I was normally armed.

This morning, not too early, back to work, he off on something else and myself heading home on an airliner for days off. Thanks to all of you for all the well wishes, the phone calls, the cards and the emails. Tomorrow I'm headed up to Midwest Chick and Mr. B's home for the weekend (and no one better jump out of a cake!)

Tonight, it's just Barkley and I, with some quiet music (Stan Getz playing "Alfie") and memories of good times gone by. Thoughts of fingers on soft stringed instruments, the pace and heartbeat of life on another side of the world, always on my mind.