April’s 1st, twenty eighteen
Almost 24 thousand days ago I was born. Jeezuz, today I am officially old as dirt. I thought I would be overcome by the sudden urge to play shuffleboard. I wondered if I would set up my chair on the deck, straighten and flatten the brim of a hat I seldom wear and sit and watch the world go by. Well, that’s not likely to happen is it. Since I’m here in the U.S.A. it is likely appropriate to use a quote from Honest Abe “In the end, it’s not the years in your life that count. It’s the life in your years.”
I wanted to stay here on the hook at Peck Lake for my birthday. We could have gone to shore and a restaurant and all that but the Black Prince notwithstanding, I prefer the hook. I am limited in my choices for my birthday dinner to the only main course that remains, pork chops. These are not pork chops from the synchronized swimming variety but Palm Beach pork chops. There might be a cake if it’s not too hot to run the oven.
We will walk the beach this afternoon at some point, the day is supposed to be nice. Yesterday the light for pictures was dismal I took a few pics