Officially Able to Promote this Logo for the Next 365 Days with Fellow Brethren and Sistren Born in 1972...All as I Approach the BIG 5-0

Funny, how quickly it is to be 49 years old. This life thing flies by, especially since I'm forever 15 (thanks, Abu and Lossine for that). I just graduated high school...okay, college...finished a Masters...Oh, then that 2nd one...taught summers in Denmark...started Bread Loaf School of English...decided on a Ph.D...lived in Binghamton, Louisville, and Syracuse. That was yesterday, right? Now I'm in Connecticut and officially in my last years of the 40s.

How did that happen?

I would say my body gets it, because although I've maintained a healthy pace for most of my life, ever since the mid-40s hernia, and the abrupt sprint towards a word that rhymes with Nifty, my parts are conking out. They aren't what they always were, which is frightening, but part of the game.

I remember cousins warning about the 30s, the 40s, but I'm heading towards that other number (and there's no turning back). Ouch and ugh.

Happy Birthday to Me.

I'm feeling blessed with a full day of meetings and teaching until 7 p.m. tonight, and will be a mono-maniac  to get through it all. I'm sure when I finally have the graduate school Zoom-wave of good-bye, I'll be, "What the h#$$ was this day?" I am thankful, because I rarely get too many days with spaces to process the chaos of it all. Better to keep busy.

But this day actually belongs to my mom, Sue, who pushed me out so many decades ago, and to my father, Butch (son of a Butch) who provided that one pollywog 9 months before this day was even on the Crandall radar....a June experience, I fathom (good time, too - not as hot and humid as the rest of summer...usually rather nice in upstate New York).

I got the best gift yesterday from my mom. She and Patch are engaged. After all these years and who knows how many episodes, the two of them have finally decided it's the right time. She isn't breaking ties with my father, however, because there's always been room for Salem-love in her world, too. It's just now, it's being made official.  

I wish I could eat a whole cake, have ice cream, and even a party, but we all can claim a Covid-celebration for our festival this year. I just want my friends to quack me a Happy Birthday with the masks I provided...if not Happy Birthday, then a Name that Tune song (preferably on Facebook, so it can be shared with others who wonder what is wrong with Crandall).

Happy Tuesday, everyone. Enjoy the storms that did what they did to you. Apparently, they are everywhere. I'm a 49-er until next February 16th....I'll keep you posted on how it goes.