We're only halfway through my uncelebrated birthday, but already my suddenly magnetic inner birthday core is sucking birthday-related trivia directly out of the world around it. Check it: so far I've learned that
1. I was actually born at 10:53pm on 5 Jan all those hundred of years ago. This has important ramifications in Chinese zodiac-type stuff. We'll explore shortly.
2. My grandmother Antoinette called me Little Capon, "comparing your birth weight to her rare luxury chicken", according to my dear mother.
3. The photo above is from last year's Lost Second Birthday Party, and it reveals, among other things, some of what we ate.
Languishing in front of Clare and Andy (guess which one of these two can drink more cocktails without looking completely sloshed) are the remains of a predominantly Spanish/Portugese cheese and charcuterie plate (Cabrales, manchego, membrillo, 3 different chorizos), supplemented by some wonderful olives that Yannis picked himself in Greece over the holidays.
Notice I didn't even mention the guy dancing with the skeleton in the background. That's Phil, he's coming over tomorrow for some Scrabble and beef rendang (I will be having a petite portion myself).
Speaking of which...of course: as soon as I put my foot down about this so-called healthy eating business, Pete is bringing over cassoulet tonight. It is my birthday...maybe we'll start the Little Capon Reduction Program on Monday.
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