Darn that Lady Luck

Turning 33 ain't bad
Before I launch into a diatribe about how Lady Luck has done us wrong, I would like to let you know that my dear Cynical was born 33 years ago today. We celebrated early with dinner out and awarding of the presents. He was a particularly good boy last year, so he got a watch and "War of the Worlds" on DVD.

He's feeling old and dilapidated today and even though I feel for him, it's tough to pour out pity on the boy, as I am four years older than he is. I am wondering if he visualizes me in support stockings, comfortable shoes and big chunky jewelry. To improve his mood, I broke the #1 rule of gift giving and gave him his bag o' birthday early. Now, I fear he has nothing to open on the actual day commemorating his birth. I warned him that such rule breaking would only bring disappointment.

Darn that Lady Luck
Darn that Lady Luck. . . just when you think fate and kharma are on your side, she goes and smacks you down again.

Needless to say our run of good luck has ended and now we are, shall we say, on the downhill slalom toward one minor disaster after another. (Please note that I am overstating here: I realize what you are about to read is in no way comparable to natural disasters, financial ruin or other devastation such as a hang nail or the likes.)

The weekend began with a trip to the hospital. It seems that Little Princess M had to be hospitalized as she has pneumonia. My understanding was that this decision was made based on hydration. It's all about the fluids. However, the little one (only 14 months old) was so sad with her little IV and hospital bed. We visited her several times this weekend and she was not happy upon our last visit. I too would be ready to get home to my own bed, my soft sheets and my own stuffed elephant. Her mother and father were much distressed as anyone would be when they have to hold down their dear little one while she is poked and prodded. Say a prayer that everyone is safe and sound, home soon and feeling better. . . oh and well-rested.

On Saturday I had plans with a friend for a full day of shopping, eating, visiting and bashing. Too tired and too frustrated, we didn't get much shopping done and I must say that we both ran out of steam. It was awesome to see her and I only wish we'd had more time, more energy and more good shopping in our little town.

That evening we made a trip to visit my folks. I only wish I could pretend that this visit was pleasant, but for some reason everyone was grumpy, out of sorts and just plain rude. I would have expected nothing less.

By the time Sunday arrived I really just wanted to hibernate, relax and wear my glasses all day long. However, we had other plans. Another stop by the hospital, a trip to the YMCA, and an early birthday celebration for Cynical and we were home.

Then came another tragedy averted. (Again, remember that this is probably overstated.) For some time we have been considering retiring our pc, but alas, it just seems a shame to say goodbye to something that has fared us well. I would hate to think that I was replaced by some sleek, skinny, faster model.

Last night Cynical opted to use our elder computer only to discover that she was, well, ailing and tempermental. Attempt after attempt could not revive her. Only concerned with retrieving our digital photos from her, I patiently plugged away, only to find enough life in her to allow me to copy one mere folder. There were some photos that I knew were particularly important to Cynical, so retrieved those first, fearing I may not have another chance. Another chance I didn't get. I pleaded. I prayed to the hardware and software gods. I promised to always update the anti-virus system, regularly vacuum out the fan and dust her regularly, if she'd only awaken long enough to allow me to see my dear little Princess S covered in peas again.

Frustrated and realizing I couldn't save the photos of my sweet niece or our trip to Kansas City, I opted to knit away my anger. Never knit angry, it only leads to ripping out. It's never a good combination. So I ripped and ripped and ripped away, starting over seemed a much more appropriate measure.

Hoping Grey's Anatomy and a little time away from the computer would improve our mood, we retreated to our bedroom and snuggled up. I tossed and turned and tossed and turned, worried about Princess M, hoping my folks' travels were safe, frustrated with the computer, unhappy with my workout, distressed over my appearance as of late, unhappy that the weekend was over.

Cynical too was unable to sleep this morning, so he arose early. I thought he'd probably just watch some television and snooze on the couch, but instead, he nurtured, coddled and nursed our computer until he was able to retrieve the photos that were particularly important to me.

I joked this morning that was the definition of love. Valuing what matters most to the one that you value the most.