Just walked up the lane. It’s around a 40 min round trip. Up hill leaving, downhill on the way back. A very private lane for the most part, with the occasional car, but today none. Having recently been learning about not breathing through the mouth as being a healthy thing, I have been doing the walk with mouth closed, even up the steepest part. Not actually that easy, but getting easier each time. Expecting to live to well into the 100’s.
With that in mind tomorrow is my birthday. What does it mean? Hmm to me, not a lot. To my folk – can’t use folks, as one of them is dead – who knows. I am not particularly hung up on age, and the passage of time. Do I feel it, sure I do. I have caned my body over the years, but do I feel any older? Kind of. I like going grey, makes me feel like a silver back gorilla; a rights of passage for getting older. I also like not really giving a fuck about a lot of things I used to give a fuck about.
Ideally tomorrow I would like to be picked up by helicopter, and flown to a strange and faraway destination. Or better still, to some of the places I visit in my dreams. I love those places, makes here seem so … ordinary. The darkness has come with the clatter of hail outside. The cats are all sleeping in their respective places, and never the twains, shall meet. In three of four years I shall be having a party. I have not had a birthday party, but I figure I shall entertain the thought for my three score years and none. We shall see.