Gina's birthday

Paul and I both had today off, which was out of the ordinary. We had waffles for breakfast then hurried around to get errands finished before our appointment with the washer repairman, sometime between 1-3. He was a pleasant fellow, who informed us that the leak was coming from just where I thought it was (and was really hoping it wasn't). Then he quoted a couple of hour's labor, which I thought sounded about right. Then told me that the gasket did not come as just a gasket, but it came all of one piece with half the drum. So, instead of a rubber seal, I have to purchase a $179 half-drum (plus tax), with it's seal, making the repair, plus the cost of today's visit about $400. He also suggested I may be able to slow the leak, or perhaps stop if for a while by tightening the bolts (which I would have done by now if I actually owned a socket wrench, which I must have left behind when I moved). So, our plan of attack is to borrow my brother-in-law's socket wrench and see if we can slow the thing down, at least temporarily, until we can decide whether to buy a new machine or not.

Then we went

downtown for a little walk, then to my mom's, and then rushed home to make Gina's birthday dinner. Tony and Erica joined us. Her special request was honey-mustard chicken. I served it with rice and brocolli. It was wonderful. I also rushed at the same time to whip up a cake. As you'll see from the picture, I haven't baked a cake in quite a few years and only just discovered I did not have two matching cake pans, and had already used the appropriately sized flat pan for the chicken. I also found I did not have enough frosting for two layers! So, I layered the cake in the style of a very short Incan pyramid and frosted only the top. It was astonishingly ugly and absolutely delicious. Gina, as always, was a complete sport about the whole thing. For her gift we had ordered her a pair of Tom's shoes on-line. That was her only request. She loved them, tried them on, and discovered they'd sent her one size six shoe, and one size five. As always, she was a complete sport about the whole thing and intends to exchange them for a pair with two size sixes. After this, they all left to go to her party, a no-parent affair.

So I cleaned the kitchen, made popcorn, and Paul and I watched a movie about Beethoven: Immortal Beloved. It was beautiful and desperately sad. Is it appropriate to tell if my husband cries at a movie? Well, I guess I won't tell, just in case it's not. And I did three leaky loads of laundry, and now must go to bed.