Heron

Sunday afternoon I arrived home from yet another fiftieth birthday celebration, this time for my friend Laura Lane.  Several high school friends converged on an oceanfront hotel in Virginia Beach, and my college roommate Iris also was in town for her daughter's volleyball game.  There was lots of fun and frivolity, but not a lot of rest and sleep. There also didn't appear to be much behavior typically associated with fifty-year-olds.  One of the two rooms we were in was visited by the hotel security guard, who issued a warning for noise.

(Please note, I was not in that particular room.  I was as quiet as a church mouse.  Well, a more accurate statement is at the time the warning was issued, I was dancing the night away downstairs in the hotel lounge. So, for the record, I was not in violation of any hotel policies.)

A n y w a y... this heron spent the better part of  Sunday afternoon lollygagging on this pole across the creek from me.

At times he looked like a one-legged heron--especially from the angle below.

But eventually I caught him standing on both legs.

My own two legs are a little sore from Saturday night's dancing.  I view it as cross training for some upcoming races, one of which is a 10K on Valentines Day at a local winery. (Click here for details.)  I can't think of a better motivation to exercise than chocolate and wine.

And I can't think of a better cross-training exercise than dancing with lifelong friends in the middle of January in an oceanfront hotel in Virginia Beach.

Have a great week.

Half a Century

L to R:  Old Fart from Mathews, Middle Sis from Georgia, Laurie from California, Lauren from Nashville, Angie from King and Queen, Baby Sis, and Meg from Maryland.

This weekend marked the first time in my life I've ever donned a fake mustache pink cowboy hat and boa, and it also marked the first time I've ever turned 50.

Baby Sis concocted a scheme that involved some very dear blog friends traveling from near and far to help ease my transition from nursing home to funeral home Forty Something to Officially 50.

Evidently, that transition has to include mustaches, because two people brought them.

A picture of all of us us wearing these--which I'd really rather forget-- exists on Facebook, sadly.
Certain Sisters find it absolutely hilarious. I'm hoping I get some sort of credit from the universe for indulging them. (I'm not counting on it, though. In fact, I expect to see that same photo blown up poster-size at every family event we ever have into perpetuity.)

I could explain the theme of the party, but it's a very long story.  If you google Winnebago Man, that would be a starting point. But only a starting point and not the focus of this post.  

Sisters, Parents and Daughter.  Son had already returned to college.
(Don't tell Baby Sis her eyes are--once again!--closed here.  It's payback for the mustache picture on Facebook.)

Eyes wide open.

I'd really love to know what we're all looking at here.  I honestly have no idea, but clearly someone was doing something.

Parents, Sisters and The Infamous Catherine

Parents, Sisters and Blog Sisters

Parents, Sisters and Dino--our adopted brother.  He's from Morocco.

Daddy and Me.
He turns 74 later in the month.

Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus.  And, yes, Virginia, CBW still has her Christmas tree up.
Dear Santa Claus, can you come back and drop off a few elves to help me with some chores? This is the off-season for y'all now, right? Thanks! I really appreciate it. P.S. Do they also do windows?

Middle Sis and her BFF from high school, Judy

Lauren from Nashville

Bud, Billy and Glenda 

Devan and my father

Alda, Larry and Lisa

Theresa and Teresa

I thank my family, especially my Baby Sis, for throwing together this semi-surprise of a celebration.  I am grateful to have friends and family, good health, and knees that didn't give out in all the dancing that took place.

(I might have hyper-extended one knee, though, and I think I sprained my pinky finger--don't ask-- but if that's the worst that happens at a 50th birthday celebration, I'll take it. Gladly.)

And now, post-Thanksgiving, post-Christmas, post-Son's surgery, post-New Year's Eve, and post-50th birthday, I look forward to life returning to normal.

Whatever that is.

Odometer

The first Mathews High School girls' basketball game of 2015 was Tuesday night at home against King William.  In spite of an ugly first half, which was painfully sluggish likely due to the two-week Christmas break, we came out fighting in the second half and WON.

This is my neighbor Ann, who lives at the home known as Clifton.  She hails from South Africa and brought along some fans who currently live in Australia.  It's a little known secret that Mathews County girls basketball games attract a diverse, international crowd. It's the hottest ticket in town, and at five bucks a pop, what a bargain!  That five-dollar ticket includes musical entertainment in the form of a cow bell, which is fervently rung whenever MHS ties or comes ahead in the score.  

Here Daughter stretches to steal a pass.

Here, Daughter styles and profiles her new Game Do.
One of her BFFs braids it for her. I lack that skill set. 

Here, Daughter gives me the look that says, "Are you done with that camera yet?" But she'd actually say it more politely, as in "Hey, thanks, Mom, but I got this.  You can relax with the camera now. Also, I'm not so sure about that cowbell you've been bringing to games either.
Love you though!" She's nice like that.

In any case, both the JV and varsity teams have been on fire recently.  We also won against formidable Charles City Thursday evening, by a wide margin.  The games are hard-fought and more than a little stressful for those of us in the stands, but the girls are playing a really good game of basketball, and there is lots of potential ahead.

They do need a Chesapeake Bay Woman Rebounding Seminar, because they don't seem to want to jump for a rebound, to fight for a rebound, to go after a rebound like your life depends on it!  And because they stand flat-footed waiting for the ball to magically jump into their hands on the rebound, it makes me do insanely crazy things like holler instructions from the stands as if they (a) care and (b) can hear and (c) see (a).

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In other news.

Last night on the way home from Charles City, the odometer on my Saturn hit 200,000 miles.  This weekend, my personal odometer will hit 50 years of age.  Both of those numbers are absolutely shocking to me, but both of us are chugging along just fine in spite of the numeric horrors.

My sisters have concocted some sort of 200,000th birthday celebration that hopefully will take into consideration the fact that I really need my weekend afternoon nap will find us all safely preserved and intact by the time Middle Sister returns to Georgia Sunday afternoon.

If there are pictures to share, I'll post them here next week.  Knowing my two sisters, however, it's probably best if there isn't too much photographic evidence of whatever it is they're scheming.

In any case, I wish you a wonderful weekend.

Catherine's 50th

Once upon a time, a friend named Catherine turned 50 and decided she wanted to take a two-hour cruise from Tappahannock up the Rappahannock River to Ingleside Vineyards  in we still don't know which county we were in the Northern Neck.

So she did.

She invited a group of friends, one of whom bestowed her with this hat which declared not only that she was an "old coot" (on the back) but also over the hill.  Another of her friends called her Edith Bunker, but that's not really what we're focusing on here today, pearls and actual resemblances notwithstanding.

Catherine spent much of the boat ride there and back regaling her friends with stories.  I'm here to tell you right now, if there is one person on this planet who needs her own reality TV show, it's Catherine Miller Owens.  She can spin a tale complete with hand gestures, facial expressions, perfect pauses, and just the right words to keep everyone in stitches.

To tell the truth, Catherine's story-telling motions were so lively they drew the attention of the older passengers sitting inside the boat.  I peered through the window more than a few times and caught a whole row of people spellbound--and they couldn't even hear what she was saying.

It just doesn't matter with Catherine.  She's hilarious.

Catherine, Alda and Christine

Alda and Lawrence

Catherine's husband Willie B. (making sure she didn't flail herself overboard with her hand gestures),
Catherine and Lisa

When we arrived at the winery, the disembarkation process was smooth.
Here Laura Lane, Catherine and Teresa make the trip down the dock.

The birthday girl, who is also a nurse, received what she called a "laceration" on her upper thigh in a recent boating incident. I wish I could say she was showing the crowd her laceration here,
but alas I cannot.  She was just posing for a picture.

Merlot grapes had just been harvested when we arrived at the winery.
Here, Catherine samples a few.

After a very educational talk about how the wine is made, we sampled some of the wines.
Although I'm more of a merlot fan, I liked their Chesapeake Chardonnay
best of all those sampled.

We enjoyed lunch in their lovely courtyard. There's also a very interesting museum on site.

On the boat ride back to Tappahannock, a feather boa suddenly appeared from nowhere.

And glasses.

It was a great day.

Catherine took the time on the cruise over to say what she appreciated most about each of her friends in attendance.  I'd like to say to Catherine that I appreciate her unconditional friendship.

But most of all, I think she has a true gift.  When nothing or nobody else can, she can make me laugh. She is the queen of telling stories and the queen of physical comedy.  When she mentioned going in to the winery how much she wished she could get barefoot in a barrel of grapes and stomp the heck out of them, I realized then and there that she takes after one of the greats:  Lucille Ball.

She's a one-of-a-kind mess, a comedienne extraordinaire--whether she knows it or not--and we love her.

Just as she is.

Happy 50th birthday, Catherine!

The End.