There are three hundred and sixty-four days
when you might get un-birthday presents …
and only one for birthday presents, you know.
I missed it… only one clover away from St. Patrick’s day. I guess my mother had enough and could not wait another day. This year, on the Wednesday before the big day, I was escorted to an evening in the theatre, watching and listening to young virituoso playing and dancing the spirit of Ireland. Sort of River dancers in the making.
As desert I received an afternoon ‘browsing’ in a big shopping centre, yep, a real buying not only watching’ spree. One year older and a wardrobe full of goodies will keep me busy during my new getting older every day year.
Old age isn’t so bad when you consider the alternative.