Birthday memories defined by mumps, stitches, and family

Happy birthday. I’d been saving for your education, but decided this would be a better time (a fair assumption given I kept skipping final exams to take summer jobs on newspapers). No Pollyanna, my mother was all realist.

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40 years ago I had another baby

When she was three I watched from a viewing platform as she leapt into the deep end of a pool during a swimming lesson. She came up coughing and blubbing and ready to jump again.

It was a metaphor for her life as she makes a difference in this world in ways I can barely comprehend.

A year of When I’m 64

It’s my birthday tomorrow, which means two things:

1. It’s been exactly one year since I awoke thinking holy smoke, it’s now or never to put that domain name I bought when I was 62 to work.
1. The name of this blog has now passed from reality to wistful and symbolic. Oh, well.