Happy Birthday to Me!

Yesterday, the 27th, I turned the big Three-Aught. Yes, that would be thirty. Twitch twitch. Shudder.

Doug has never been one to, say, roll out the red carpet on birthdays and such. He's a quiet, steady man who doesn't like a disturbance in his routine. And a birthday party would be a disturbance.

But this birthday was, well, very significant for us right now. And you can see why when you look at this page. If anyone else had been interested in adopting Lydia, we would not have been approved to be her parents. But as of yesterday, we officially meet all requirements!

One fun little birthday present, that really wasn't a birthday present, so much as someone giving them to us coincidentally on the eve of my birthday, was this. We were given these three gorgeous and so beautifully odd looking roosters. They were given to us because they had formed a tiny little mean mob over at the farm they were living on, so the owners thought they should split the mob up, with them essentially keeping the Sharks, while we took the Jets. An Aves-like West Side Story.

So, yesterday, we packed up the car and headed out for a long long long day. First we went to Mansfield, MO, where Laura Ingalls Wilder spent a majority of her adult life. It was fun and interesting, but in the tradition of many small Missouri towns, most of the houses looked like they were about to fall over. Except for Laura's. Hers was well manicured and beautiful.

Then, we drove to Branson. Now, we haven't spent a lot of time in Branson. The last time we did go there, I was still in a wheelchair and we spent hours (literally, hours!) waiting for various people to stop shopping in the outlet malls. This time we avoided all outlet malls and mall-type activities. Instead, we visited the Shepherd of the Hills Fish Hatchery, which was completely spontaneous and so much fun! I got a little squeegy watching all those baby fish writhe beneath the surface. I don't know why, but I did.

Then we went to the main event. Doug got tickets through MWR (Morale, Welfare and Recreation) to go to the Dixie Stampede. This was way more fun than we expected and so worth the money. We ate and ate and ate. Every time we thought we were done eating, they came along with more food. Doug was thrilled, not being a Yankee, that we sat in the Southern section, and when our side ultimately won what was apparently a "once and for all decision on the Civil War", he was happy. Gwen enjoyed the ostriches and buffalo, the pig races and the chicken races, but was a little overwhelmed with all the noise.

Today, at church, very dear friends finally brought home their adopted son, only 2 weeks old. I held him and cried and just thought how amazing it will be to bring Lydia home to this church that is so supportive of our efforts.