And yet another birthday, and year, has flown past. Yesterday was a lovely day, despite my growing aversion to birthdays. Janet took gave me some lovely presents (my last remaining CFL jersey, two books on the CFL, and, best of all, a beautiful poem she wrote for me) and took me out to eat at Sarducci's (which was, as always, excellent). Along the way there was the usual couple hundred birthday wishes that made there way to me through various modes of social media from around the world. It's lovely to be remembered, all while I do my level best to be forgotten.
Seriously, that guy must be a thousand years old (which is essentially 66 rounded up).
Janet, blissfully, enjoying her affogato.
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