Happy Birthday, Sharon. Another Excuse to Celebrate Life with these Fancy Drink Thingies. Here's to your 21st Year (with a Couple of Decades Scratched Off)

The Monday holiday was successful. I wrote for six hours, then putzed about my yard with the hedgers, gloves, a weed-whacker, a wheel-barrow, bark chips, and soil. Connecticut has these crazy devil vines that grow through the bushes: some of them are straight up sticks with spikes and others are wavy, thorny needle vines. I hate them, but I spent part of the day pulling them where I could and getting to the roots when the thickness of bushes allowed me. I have a neighbor behind me to that for such guests. He doesn't take care of his backyard, so I get his poison ivy, weeds, and these devil ropes under the fence. Drives me batty. 

I don't get them out front, so the landscaping is much easier. 

By 4, I showered and moved onward to celebrate Sharon's birthday with drinks and appetizers before retiring to Pam's beach condo for cupcakes and conversation. The drink I had was bourbon something or other and it was unlike any other bourbon drink I've ever had. It was a nice summer taste.

Alas, it's Tuesday and the meetings are piled up, and the goals/agenda growing wild. Looking at the forecast, my guess is all the days with thunderstorms must mean that the high humidity is finally coming. Can't wait. Not.

And kudos to the stereo system a block over that must be hosting a party, because the music has been blaring since the morning. It's like we're all at a concert and the mixture of oldies and modern-day hiphop has me believing it was a graduate party and the adult soon took over the song selection. 

And that other drink was some sort of blackberry-tequila concoction with spicy something or other down the side. It was odd, so it was all Shirley's.

Time to get off the ol' blog and back to the grind. Monday's never disappear. When we have them off, they simply become Tuesdays.