B and I have birthdays exactly a week apart and this June was 42 for B and 37 for me. If you’re a Douglas Adams fan, you’ll know that 42 is the answer–and B is expecting this year to be auspicious, if not the best year yet. I’d say the forecast is looking good. 🙂
B’s birthday dinner: homemade pesto-chicken pizza (so good, we reprised it a week later for my b-day dinner).
A year in the sunshine has given me definite crow’s feet/laugh lines/extra character:
A little digital manipulation takes care of those, though:
But really, as long as I get a good night’s sleep, I’m feeling physically better than I ever have. I’m very fortunate.
A copy of Barry Crump’s Hang On a Minute, Mate was my birthday present this year, intended as a read-aloud to the family, and I’ll start on it as soon as I’ve worked my way through his A Good Keen Man. He reminds me of Steinbeck: ordinary, down-and-out folks. Straightforward style. Crump makes us roll on the floor groaning with laughter, though; it’s really great read-aloud stuff.
One of my favorite writing tricks when I’m feeling uninspired is the cut-up machine. The following is a combination of lines from my journal on 6/14 and part of Kipling’s poem on Auckland (can you find it?).
the loneliest comes from one
loveliest exquisite year
in my face the golden harbor
kids come sun-squinting
up the grassy old harbor skirt
home and now