Monday, April 23, 2007
 

A Surprise Party--Part I


Hello, everyone. Bev Trexel with you today. It has certainly been a trying few weeks. First the ruckus about building the hotel. Then those horrible murders here, and everyone looking over their shoulders. (See, Angie, I told you having a dog was a good idea.) Now the shooting at Virgina Tech, where one of my friends used to teach. After all that, who couldn't use some cheering up?

So Kanner Lake threw a surprise birthday party for Angie.

Barely. Wilbur tried to ruin the surprise by yapping that party or no party, the fourth stool was his. As if any of the regulars would even think about taking it. But Angie overheard the word party and everything would have been lost right then if David hadn't walked in--about the only subject that could distract Angie from thoughts of a party.

But somehow we made it, and Bailey rented Java Joint to us for a whole afternoon, no tourists. We decked up the place with balloons and streamers--even got a pink one tied into a bow around Wilber's stool--and everyone squeezed inside. All the regulars were there. Bailey and John. Jared. Ted Dawson in his corner with Leslie nearby ... hmm, I might have to look into that one. Carla. Pastor Hank and Janet. Wilbur on his stool with Jake right beside him. Sarah even closed up Simple Pleasures for a few hours so she and Paige could join us. And oh, yes, David. I delivered that invitation by hand myself.

Then I had the pleasure of half-dragging Angie from her home. She complained every step of the way, couldn't understand why I was so insistent that she had to join me for a cup of coffee. But when she walked in and everyone jumped up (well, everyone but Wilbur, him being so worried about that stool of his) and yelled "Surprise! Happy Birthday!" in two languages (thanks to Ted Dawson)--well, it was worth it.

We served up the world's best coffee and sandwiches, followed by chocolate cake and old-fashioned strawberry ice cream, just like my father used to churn when I was younger. For a long time I debated whether cake and ice cream were such a great idea with all of Angie's health fuss. But what is a birthday party without cake and ice cream? So I decided Angie would have to live with it; only once in a lifetime can you turn seven--oops. Angie would skewer me if I let that out to the whole world.

After that, sometime during the chaos, we decided that since all the bloggers were gathered in the same place at the same time for once, we would try to create a joint blog for Scenes and Beans, like our first day. But things got a bit, shall we say, out-of-control? So I think Bailey might have wisely locked it away someplace where it'll never be published. Unfortunately, I've heard rumors that Wilbur and Jake have started a petition for its publication. Don't be surprised if they try to get all of cyberspace clammoring for it.

Then Ted Dawson (S-Man) was persuaded to do his first public reading of the novel he's always working on. Outside those parts you can't understand, the writing wasn't bad. No Shakespeare or Hemingway, of course. But I highly doubt that was his intention anyway.

Unfortunately, Jake slapped his thigh and he said he could tell a story as good, promptly launching into his latest tale about his pup, Duke. Next, Wilbur decided he had to out-do him with one of his fish tales. That spurred Jake into one of his.

Thank goodness for David, or the party would have been a disaster for sure. But he stepped in and proposed a coffee toast for Angie. I always knew I liked him. Angie, on the other hand, turned bright red. She tried to tell me it was because Java Joint had become so warm, but although it was warm (what do you expect with all that hot air?), I knew better.

Finally we got to the presents--but that deserves a post all its own.

-- Bev Trexel
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Read the personal blog of the author of this post.

Posted by ~ Bailey Truitt @ 7:00 AM
Comments:
I want to thank everyone for surprising me on my birthday. I was overwhelmed, to say the least. I still cry when I think about it, well most of it at least. Of course, Bev keeps getting my age confused with her. I'm proud to say I was 67 on my birthday, and I've earned every year of it. I won't tell you anything more until after Bev's post tomorrow...
Posted by Blogger Angie Brendt : 5:07 PM
 
Happy birthday, Angie!
Posted by Anonymous Anonymous : 12:10 PM
 
Wish I could have been there. Maybe I'd have tried to sit on Wilbur's stool. :)
Posted by Anonymous Anonymous : 12:10 PM
 
R.J., Something tells me people try that only once...
Posted by Anonymous Anonymous : 12:11 PM
 
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