I celebrated by walking home from work. It took me one hour and 45 minutes, maybe 20 minutes longer than I thought it would. But gosh! That's not bad for 4.5 miles. My time will improve!
If I had gone west instead of east, I would be in Center City Philadelphia right now. I feel empowered.
Over the weekend I scavenged a deceased opossum from a Snobville street and threw it into the back yard. I was hoping to lure some Thunderbirds here for my special day. But it's been a long, cold, lonely winter, and this area isn't chock-a-block with buzzards even in the best of weather. Holding out hope here, but in the meantime, I can always scare up a wake of buzzards, thanks to the magic of computers!
EXHIBIT A: DAYS OF YORE, WENONAH, NJ
EXHIBIT C: FLOPPY
EXHIBIT D: SOMEONE SENT ME THIS GORGEOUS SHOT THAT WAS HARD TO NAB
May the wisdom of the Sacred Thunderbird roost in your belfry! Bird is the word.
7 comments:
Happy birthday! I hear 55 is the new 52.
From now on, when I think of people celebrating birthdays in their fifties, i shall think of buzzards. Is that bad?
Katy, when everyone thinks of me, they think of buzzards ... but I wouldn't apply this line of thought wholesale.
Happy Birthday, Anne!
Love,
Terri in Joburg
Happy Bird Day!! (Somehow that seems more appropriate for you than just "birthday"...) And may the Buzzard of Happiness fly with great care over your birthday cake! :-)
Happy Birthday, Anne!
happy birthday...hope you get to see one or several....great news on the walk. I would have had to call 911 after 3 blocks.
Thank you, my wonderful readers! Alas, Mr. J's patience ran out on the possum carcass, so it is now buried, and may it rest in peace instead of pieces.
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