Unbeknown to me, however, others had no problem deciding how to celebrate this event. On December 31st, for example, Lynda Brugge sent a message to some Sew & Tell friends and me, setting up a dinner at Carraba's Restaurant before our Monday quilt guild meeting, right on my birthday (January 14). On January 1st, she entered the hospital for tests, which turned into a chemotherapy session, but she told us all not to wait for her, that she would celebrate with me later. Lynda had already had a secret meeting with Bob around Christmastime, to get his participation in a special gift project.

When I arrived at work on the 14th, I thought maybe someone would say "Happy Birthday," especially since I had mentioned it several times during the two prior weeks - sort of gearing myself up to accept the inevitable. But no one blinked as I walked through the morning. I told everyone I encountered, friend or stranger, outside my component, but I waited to see how long it would be before anyone in PRPS remembered. Just before lunch, we got word of a meeting for all of us at 1:15. Okay, I thought, maybe some mention would be made of it at the meeting. Like "Oh by the way..." I told several more strangers and acquaintances at noon, all of whom went into shock. Well, that was kind of fun!

We gathered at the conference table at 1:15. A few minutes later Marty, our director came in and said, "You all know what this meeting is about..." and my head swiveled around. Shoot, they forgot to tell me something! How come I'm always the last to know what's going on! I stared at Marty, and he said, "...all except Nancy, that is." I still stared. Then he and everyone else smiled as he announced my "special birthday." They gave me balloons and a wonderful cake from Sugarbakers, the great place from which Lynda had purchased our 50th anniversary cake. The BD cake was huge, four layers with berry filling and French vanilla buttercream frosting. The decorations, besides the iced greetings, consisted of fresh flowers beautifully arranged on two opposing corners. And it was also delicious! It was so big that even though we ate more than we should over the next few days, we had to freeze a good bit.

That same evening was the Carabba's dinner, a ritual with this particular group of friends. I always enjoy the Eggplant Parmegiana, along with Beth and Aurelia. Sharon is the only one who varies what she eats there. We even ordered Aurelia's before she arrived. After we'd eaten, they brought out the gifts. Terrific gifts! Sharon, knowing I enjoy my weekly literary group, had selected a book of poems that Jackie Kennedy Onassis had loved best. Aurelia had made a cute quilted zippered bag, just perfect for a rotary cutter - with a new style of cutter to go with it. Beth had made a pin based on a photo transfer of a quilt I'd made and given to my former hostess in Japan - a truly amazing likeness. She also gave me an embroidered pin with documentation that spoke of Russian miniature paintings - another one that gets lots of compliments. With these she included a box of Fudge Fatale in a fancy black velvet box, and a box containing 7 jars of fabric dye - "one for each decade." The wait staff sang in fractured Italian and handed me a hot fudge sundae, and I love their homemade hot fudge.

Next I picked up the other half of my dinner (for Bob's lunch on Tuesday) and trekked over to our Faithful Circle Quilters meeting, where I realized that my three companions were all dressed in fuschia (or the closest pink they could find in their closets). I was also wearing my fuschia jacket. I recalled being asked recently for my favorite color. This was obviously a well planned tribute!

Over the next few days, I received greetings from several relatives, too. And Darrel mailed me a gift of a pair of two way radios, two days after Bob mentioned that we needed some kind of communication between the bedroom and kitchen. How's that for timing?

The following Sunday I received more gifts, great balloons, and another tasty cake at Sew & Tell's monthly meeting at the quilt shop. We usually have a homemade cake supplied by one of us, but this one was organized by monetary donations from all the members and a trip to a different special store by Sharon. By then I was so excited by my friends' kindness that I could hardly keep a dry eye. But then they gave me a really special gift. They handed me the gift and said, "This is a quilter's gift - you have to give it back so it can be finished." It's an absolutely one-of-a-kind large bag to carry quilt supplies to classes and meetings. Down the sides are pockets: on one side is a pocket with "Poetry" and on the other side are two little ones, "It's" and "My Bag." There are two large pockets for the front and back, and one in Ultrasuede inside the large zippered area. On the front and back are small quilt blocks with quotations: quilt sayings, poems, and inspirational quotes. - one from each Sew & Tell member, and one from Bob. The one from Bob contains the first two lines of his favorite poem by Robert Burns, "Oh my luve is like a red, red rose, That's newly spring in June." He recites this poem to me about once a year.

About three weeks later I took the two kinds of frozen cake slices to a church potluck, and they all disappeared. I made sure people knew I was sharing my 70th birthday gift cakes, and that gave several people a good excuse to break their diets.

Okay, are you maybe wondering if I look back on my birthday as a positive event? You bet! How could I possibly find better friends anywhere than these great people? And both the Howlett and Murdock clans remembered me. God has been very, very good to me, and I hope I'll remember that in 10 years when I get close to the one beginning with 8. I am truly blessed.

I have given up nine stressful jobs, all of which were volunteer. Anything that meant an evening meeting or bookwork once I got home, or that I really did not enjoy doing, I have resigned from. And I find that I have time to do things for "Me" and I love it! I made a St. Patrick's Day wall hanging and today I hung it in the recreation room in time for the bingo party tonight.

I have an appointment with a specialist in Boston on March 28 to talk about a redo on my knee. My arthritis is quite a nuisance but tolerable. Otherwise I am fine. Would be even better if I could play Scrabble more often. Teddie and Viki do play once in a while and are getting very good at it.

Teddie and Bill are contented but miss having Mykaela for the weekends now that Ben and Mike have both flown the nest.

Viki and Shawn are both working at Mount Wachusett ski area and both are enjoying it.

Penny is very happy living in Auburn, NY. She has a job but has applied for a job working in the toll booths on the NY throughway. She thinks she would like that. Penny is a "people" person.

Randy is a wonderful father and a very loving husband to Gloria. His job takes him away almost every week - this time to Germany. He has to teach people who use the computers that his company makes how to handle new improvements as they come along. It is not easy since the students are not always English speaking so he has to work through an interpreter. Also sometimes he has to study the material on the new information for the first time while en route to his destination. Randy takes his two younger boys to their sports games and practices and even coaches some of them. But best of all he never forgets his Mom. He and Gloria are very good to me. But then, so are all of my kids.

We had a good visit and plan to go see her again soon.

As nobody in her household has a computer she can't get the Murdock Muse, so we will print it out each time and mail it to her. She really enjoys reading it.

Here in Southern California, the weather has been strange this year. One week it is cold and cloudy or raining and the next week the temperatures are up in the 80's. We aren't like you Easterners, who pack up your summer clothes and bring out your winter things - we leave them all hanging in the closets year round as we never know what the temperature will be.

My father, Foster Lawton Howlett, was gassed in WWI. He was proud that he had volunteered at age 17. Born December 27, 1899, he was just barely old enough to get in on the last year or so of the war. He didn't make the minimum weight the first time he tried, so he went home and ate lots of bananas for four days, and then he was heavy enough to be inducted. Many times he told the story of being asked by other servicemen whether he was an enlisted man or a draftee. He was always pleased to answer, "I'm an enlisted man; I'm not old enough to be drafted."

When I was going to 4-H camp at age 13, he dug out his old canteen and duffel bag and taught me to make "surgeon's knots" to hold my bedroll together. He also showed me his puttees and wool khaki uniform, and a folding curved knife that he said was a razor. He was the company clerk, he who had left school partway through the sophomore year of high school. His tour of duty, a little over a year, was his coming of age and the most exciting time of his life. He always told people he had been in the Meuse-Argonne battle, sort of like mentioning an Olympic bronze medal.

When President Roosevelt died, we heard church bells ringing, and Dad ran out to his car to listen to the radio. After the announcement, the station played "Taps" for the Commander in Chief's last rest. Dad jumped out of his car, stood tall and serious, and saluted until the last note died away. His eyes held a faraway look. I was terribly impressed, because my father was a died-in-the-wool Republican who always made a point of saying that he and my mother had voted for Roosevelt only once, to get us out of the Depression. He was not normally positive in his attitude toward Roosevelt.

In a move during a battle in WWI, Dad lost some company papers and was demoted from Sergeant to Private First Class. My mother was proud that in death his grade of Sergeant was restored. I don't know of any injury he sustained until he was coming home after the Armistice. He tripped over a coil of rope on the ship and hurt his knee. The knee never completely healed, and it bothered him from time to time for the rest of his life. But on another level, it was his badge of honor.