Today was The Saucy Milliner’s birthday. Oddly enough, it was mine, too.
I have spent much of the past two weeks in bed for reasons which a lady never gets into in a public forum such as this and The Saucy Milliner does endeavor to be a lady at least 80% of the time (anything more and she would have to call herself ‘The Mundane Milliner) but suffice it to say, she is even more desperate than ever to find a working Flux Capacitor (see bio). My employer very graciously gave me this day off some time ago, in support of my potential efforts at celebrating this special day, though I woke up this morning feeling like doing the exact polar opposite of that. I woke up with my heart, my head and every muscle and hair on my body commanding me to just lie still another day in bed and watch the light change in my room as the sun moved across the sky.
So I willfully obeyed.
For exactly 13 mins, anyway.
That is when something unusual happened.
From my bed, which faces my beautiful leaded bay window, I watched as a giant falcon landed in my Tim Burton tree which grows directly outside of it. I call it my Tim Burton Tree because it looks all gnarly and Beetlejuicey in the winter when it is barren, save for the odd stubborn leaf which refuses to fall from it in autumn and clings on or dear life, much in the same way a Kitsilano Cylon clutches her overpriced designer coffee whilst walking her rat-dog up 4th in her Lululemon (though it’s debatable she’s ever done a single yoga session). I digress. I love my Tim Burton Tree – you see, I do not have curtains and it fills up my window with green, leafy goodness, permitting me to prance around in my skivvies sans giving the neighbors a free show and this morning I was sharing my tree with a giant falcon.
It was incredible.
I slowly slid out of my bed. I did not want to make any sudden movements for fear that the falcon would fly away. I walked over to the window and upon a closer look, could see that the falcon had something in it’s talons. My stomach took a sudden lurch when I realized it was a dead pigeon. Gross. The falcon wedged the pigeon in between some branches and didn’t waste any time tucking into it’s breakfast. Feathers started flying everywhere. It was quite the sight. I couldn’t look away. Soon, the falcon was through the feathery layers and started in on the bloody, fleshy bits. I grabbed my camera and thought to myself, ” I hope you take what you don’t eat with you! Oh, and please also take that black squirrel that hangs about and looks like it has the mange.”. The last thing I wanted was a rotting pigeon, corpsifying up my beloved tree and attracting flies. We don’t really use screens here in Vancouver (true story), and that would mean having to keep my shutters closed, which was out of the question – I love my cross breeze as much as I love my tree! So clean up after yourself, falcon!
All was well. After an hour of munching and hanging out, the falcon vanished along with any leftovers there may have been, leaving only a smattering of feathers on the ground below, which the breeze swept away soon enough.
All of this action outside of my window, as gruesome as it was, raised my spirits. I decided to take a walk to the beach and treat myself to one of the designer coffees that the Kits Cylons favor. It was, after all, only 7:45 am in the morning, perhaps it was just what I needed to help shake the funk that had been holding me captive for the previous two weeks. I grabbed my debit card and slipped on my old, worn out Keens and grubby sweatshirt. I tucked the rats nest that my hair had become, for lack of motivation to wash it, into my ’24 Day 6′ cap*** and plodded out the front door towards Higher Grounds coffee shop up on Broadway for some fancy coffee brewed by someone not me. I am the current Mayor of Higher Grounds on a social geo tagging game called Foursquare. I like to ‘Check In’ every few days in an effort at maintaining that mayorship. I don’t know why. It’s my latest social media gaming compulsion, I guess and for a reason I can’t explain, this title is important to me. 
7:53 am – I check in to the coffee shop, grab my extra large coffee and made my way to the beach.
As the caffeine quickly permeated my bloodstream and the sun started climbing a bit higher in the sky, what was a seemingly impossible thought only a short hour previous, occurred to me – that perhaps, just perhaps, I might find myself in a mood to celebrate my birthday after all. My plodding became more of a proper walk and by the time I reached the beach and found a bench to sit upon, I felt the first vague sense of pleasure that I had in what seemed like forever. Truth be told, it’s hard to not feel pleasure when on sits on a bench at Kits beach early in the morning. Looking out at Stanley Park whilst listening to the waves gently roll in and smelling the ocean air mixed with the faint smell of chlorine from the Kits Pool is really quite lovely and one of the reasons I live in this city and in particular this neighborhood. In that moment, on the bench, I felt blessed.
Then my iPhone rang.
The Raiders of the Lost Ark theme broke the serenity of the moment and rather startled me, in fact, as I forgot that my phone was in my kangaroo pouch. That phone call made my morning. A friend from the States was calling me with my first of the three happy birthday calls I would get today. I was so happy! I have taken my facebook profile down for some time ago and I really didn’t expect anyone to realize it was my birthday except for my sister and my mom and maybe one other person, so hearing from this friend was a surprise and true delight. A fellow Browncoat, you see… After the call I knew I needed to harness this surge of positive energy. I decided that a small celebration with my other friends was something I was ready to contemplate.
I have just come home from said Celebration with the aforementioned friends. It was a most delightful evening at our old haunt, The Gerrard (a Mayorship which I covet) and I am so happy I decided to let them share today with me, in the end. There were presents and hats and CAKE from the lovely Nisreen, who works in the bar and always remembers my name. She’s adorable. The Saucy Milliner wore a fabulous vintage Irish Linen die-cut lace frock with a gorgeous vintage slip (thank you, Beverlee), Chie Mihara heels (a birthday present from Auntie C last summer) and of course one of her own stunning cocktail creations. And myself? Well, I wore a smile and rosy cheeks. 
Of course, the latter may be due to the Manhattans – the first alcohol to pass my lips in several months. MMMmmmManhattans.
And so here I find myself another year older. Certainly not another year wiser, for I am still the same Silly Girl who thinks far too much with her heart than her head for her own good…only with a few more noticeable lines around my eyes. My dearest friends and pals – thank you for reminding me of the abundance of love that I have in my life. I am surrounded by blessings of all sorts and I shall endeavor to remind myself of that daily. I love you all.
K
***Re: Wearing a BB Cap. The Saucy Milliner does not endorse wearing BB Caps. Ever. Unless it is an extreme emergency, such as the vile and wretched state of my hair this morning.
