The weirdest thing that happened on my birthday yesterday:

We were driving home around sunset and coming around the corner towards our house. There was a woman standing next to a bike talking on a cell phone and an old man sitting on the street, bleeding from the face, the nose, and from the back of the head, one shoe lying next to him and his tiny dog lapping up a pool of blood. She'd been out for a bike ride and came across him lying in the street; at first she thought he was dead.

We stopped the car and donated a box of Kleenex to help staunch the blood and we stayed around until the ambulance arrived, since the man was determined to get up and walk home despite the blood spurting from his nose and flowing from various other places. And despite the fact that he lives alone, so there wouldn't be anyone there to give him some first aid. He kept saying, "we're okay, we're okay." And he smelled strongly of wine, according to Brad (I didn't get close enough to notice).

I hope he's okay.

Other than that, it was a lovely birthday.