I took Jen to Jordan’s last night for a birthday dinner, after breakfast in bed, a day’s worth of flowers, and the promise (yesterday was a work day, after all) of a relaxing soak in a mineral bath with fresh lilies and scentless candles. Thursday night is live jazz night, so we were entertained by a guitar/bass combo who put a silky touch on jazz standards and Hendrix alike—it sounds strange, but believe me, it was perfect. The food was fantastic, and the ambiance was just right. We returned home to four birthday messages on our machine, a bottle of red wine, and more fresh flowers.
Happy birthday, baby. I love you.