Happy Birthday, Beloved

Today was D's birthday. We've been together for 32 of his birthdays thus far, and it's difficult to say that one is more or less exciting than another, because (allegedly) he just doesn't care about celebrating them. However, I made sure that he found flowers in his office in the morning - on the floor, which startled him, although he understood, correctly, that it was likely my neurotic concern about earthquakes that prevented me from balancing a vase with water on the desk near his computers. And we ended the evening with a sushi dinner. He worked hard on a job with a tight deadline all day, so not much celebrating in between. Here's a pic from May of the man himself giving meal worms to the hens. The smallest chicken is his, whom he had sarcastically named "Darth Maul" and whom we call "Molly"