In search of story

January 8.18


This conflagration, dear reader, was my birthday cake last night. Today is the actual date (yes, me and Elvis), but last night was the family do. What makes this flaming cake blog-worthy is the arrangement along the far arc of it. If you look closely and use just a little imagination for the emoji candles, you will see (I’ve no doubt) that the 1001011 is my birthday in binary. My family, ladies and gentlemen! Undeterred by the lack of a 7 and a 5, they devised a binary 75! I seemed to be the only one at the table to be slow on the pick-up. Yes, yes, I know what “binary” means, but it is hardly where my brain goes when I don’t have the right candles!

You may note the second cake. My daughter-in-law, in all other ways an exemplary person, does not like frosting. So there is always an angel food cake for her. Full disclosure: no one objects to having a piece with her.

Now to real life: I lay me down last night after a full day which followed one of those rotten sleepless nights. Of course I couldn’t fall asleep. This is partly age, partly my lifelong struggle with insomnia, partly too much binary cake. After about an hour, I drifted off. At 1:20 I was awakened by chirping. Yes, chirping! One of these wretched alarms was chirping! Which one, and what would I do about it in this new house?

You may know, dear reader, that any venture in the wee hours starts with a trip to the bathroom, and that’s where I saw all the blood in my mouth. How long had that been going on? I rinsed and spit and spit and rinsed. It’s this blasted HHT, as you may know if you’ve read my blog for long. It took a few shaky minutes to stop it.

The bleeding stopped but not the chirping. There I was, at 1:30 in the morning, atop a ladder at the top of the stairs, feeling woozy and not at all patient. I couldn’t figure out anything about the rotten thing. So it continued its own happy-birthday song to me. And it continues now with its soothing beepathon.

And so begins my 75th birthday. I have broken my rule of the 300-word blog post limit, which I have abided by almost unfailingly. But it’s my birthday and I’ll write if I want to.



12 thoughts on “January 8.18

  1. Happy Birthday, in binary and all other ways! I wish you a good night’s sleep, some control over your HHT if possible, an end to the infernal beeping, and also a wonderful year ahead!

  2. Wishing you a very happy birthday! I sought out the Morse code version, but decided, after an experience like that, dit-dit-dahing you might not be wise or welcome. That wouldn’t have been the best of birthday nights, cake and company excepted, but as your birthday is actually today, the universe has a second chance. I hope you’ll get the restful night you’ll be needing.

  3. Happy 75th Birthday to you.

    (I hope the little bugger has chirped himself out by now.)

    • Thanks, Shirah! My daughter-in-law spent a chunk of time here this morning working on the chirper. She got it to stop, but we’re not sure the problem is fixed permanently. I’ve sleepwalked through the day, and now fervently hope for a beepless night.

  4. That was not a good beginning to your actual birth day! I hope the rest of the day has gone – and will go – better!

    • It sure was not a good beginning! Good grief. The day improved when my daughter-in-law got the beeping to stop, but we aren’t sure if the stop is an accident or a permanent fix. I hope for peace tonight!

  5. First and foremost Happy, Happy Birthday, and many more! I understand the code but wouldn’t have recognized it. I could make a deal with your DIL – if she scraped all the frosting off her piece of cake, I’d be glad to eat it. Win-Win. πŸ™‚ Now, I hope your medical issue has resolved itself. And, last but not least, hopefully someone will come over and climb that ladder to silence the beeping. If not, my only suggestion is a set of headphones even if you don’t listen to music, it may block the sound. Someone in the complex is renovating their condo so we’ve been listening to saws and power drills since 9 sharp. Happy noisy new year. πŸ™‚

    • Saws and power drills since 9:00? And this is your get-away? My sympathies! You are very noble to offer to eat my DIL’s frosting. It’s definitely a win-win. I used to scrape the frosting off my cake too when I was a kid, but that was because it was the best part so I saved it for last. No, this HHT will never resolve itself; I just have to live with it. But the beeping might be resolved, thanks to my DIL. At least she got it to stop — and that was no small accomplishment. I will keep the headphones in mind, though. That beeping is no lullaby!

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