happy birthday

Today will be okay. It's my dad's 60th birthday, which I had been excited about sharing with him on the actual day for once. But alas. I wanted to do something to keep from being Debbie Downer all day, and on all future birthdays that I'm sure will bring emotions that I'm not yet aware of.* So, I decided to start a tradition of making a donation in his honor every year on his birthday, so the gift that would've gone to him can go to a good cause instead. This year, of course, I had to pick the Humane Society, mostly since I directed other people's memorial gifts there, but partly because they are on the verge of receiving a hearty 11-year-old orange kitty with a squeaky meow that belies his demeanor. Sammy "Satan" Blanton comes fully equipped with claws, an attitude, and an extra 10 pounds. Of course, if you would like to adopt Sammy, you will be immediately canonized. But no pressure. For a less noble (but equally appreciated) gesture, have a pint of Guinness tonight for Ed.

*I know, I ended the sentence in a preposition. I have a lot of English major ticks, but this has never been, nor will it ever be, one of them. Sometimes it's just stupid to rearrange the sentence for one little tiny word like that. Just thought this is something you might want to look out for.