Birthday surprises

Hear that whine?  That continuing whine over the years, as I tiresomely complain that my far-flung family members so rarely visit Seattle?  

Well, that whine settled down to a purr this past weekend, as I reached yet another in a succession of scary birthdays.  I had known for months that my sister planned to visit me for my birthday, much as good-hearted women have always visited the sick and the lonely and the bereaved.

And she arrived five days before my birthday, for a week's stay.  Her travel from central Idaho was not without incident, however, as her new car was crushed by a falling boulder not long after leaving her house.  Repairs would take days, if not weeks.  Luckily, the repair shop already had custody of her youngest son's ancient car, awaiting a new suspension system.  Yes, she could exchange cars, her son agreed, and so she engaged the manual clutch and lurched and bounded across two mountain ranges like a character in a jalopy in a 1930s cartoon.  

But she arrived safely, if somewhat dizzy and showing signs of shock.

That was on Wednesday.  So we had good times, good conversations, some hiking in nearby parks, some eating at Seattle restaurants.  And I awaited a quiet but enjoyable birthday celebration a deux. 

Then on Sunday, I awoke from a brief afternoon nap to hear voices downstairs.  I thought that either my sister was on the phone, or we had been visited by a mutual Seattle friend.  I arrived in the living room, and saw the back of a head on the sofa, a head that was quite unlike that of the female friend.  I cautiously walked into the room and -- it was my brother!  A brother who doesn't do all that much travel out of California.  He had flown up from Palm Springs, just for the occasion.  I was stunned and delighted.  We all three went out to dinner at a very good neighborhood Italian restaurant.  (Yes, the lasagna was excellent.)

The next day, Monday, my birthday, the three of us were chatting in the living room, in preparation for a dinner at a very good seafood restaurant overlooking Puget Sound.  I had been half expecting our Seattle friend to join us -- if not for dinner, at least to wish me a Happy Birthday -- so I wasn't surprised when I heard a loud knocking on the door.  I was surprised, however, when I opened the door.  There, grin on his face, stood my oldest nephew, up from San Francisco.  He had expected to join us the day before, but there had been mechanical problems with the flight from San Francisco, and he had departed a day late.  

I now understood the number of changes that kept being made at my sister's request to the number of guests on the dinner reservation -- changes that had been attributed to supposed questions as to whether our Seattle friend was able to attend.  Instead, both my nephew and his father, himself a resident of Seattle, joined the three of us.

The dinner was topped off with a birthday cake my sister had brought with her, which was put on a plate and  served for a mere $20 restaurant "corkage" fee.  Well worth it.  And I think there were five candles on the cake -- I was grateful that the full actual number were not displayed, which would, in fact, probably have violated local fire code regulations.

So it was one of the best birthdays I've had in years.  And it would have been so, even if we had done nothing but gathered together at my house and talked.  

You just can't beat a family get-together, regardless of the pretext.  Especially when you live isolated in the "Northwest Corner."