Nathan is my 17 year old grandson. His birthday was on Thursday. Nathan is funny and cute. Silly and serious. Tall and talented. He gets along with everyone and is liked by everyone he meets.
Buddy is my 17 year old dog. He is lazy and slow. Sweet and loving and gets along with everyone - human or canine. We celebrate his birthday on the same date, as we don't really know his true birthdate.
With Nathan's parents off to Las Vegas for an anniversary outing, I had the fun of making the birthday dinner and serving them around my big table. Trevor made a spinach dip and put it into a round of french bread. Candis made and iced the chocolate cake, and the rest was up to me. Rotiserrie's chicken in bbq sauce, a nice salad, garlic bread. And when he got home from school he was greeted with a couple big pizzas fresh from the oven, smothered inall things tasty and wonderful.
That was Thursday. This is Monday. Things happen. Nathan is okay, but had a motorcycle accident yesterday that has the family really shaken with what a close call it was. His helmet is trashed. He wiped out on a little country road while riding with his dad and sister on another bike. It was where there is no cell phone access, so they had to leave him lying there, nothing broken except the bike. He's all scraped up, bruised, and sore. They rode to where they found cell phone access and called mom to come get them with the truck. She was over an hour away though and got lost looking for them. Very scary. The bike, I hope is beyond repair. I would have left it on the side of the road and set a match to it.
If you have read my blog for a long time you will remember we have had other close brushes and even one death in my extended family caused by motorcyle riding. I hate them. I lecture and nag, and no one listens. The whole family is shaken though at the thought that he could have been killed or maimed in an instant - maybe the motorcyles will be sold off and I can rest easy.
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