Sunday, 30 November 2008
Now We Are Properly Sixty
Morning after the night before. Same cardi.
Last of the self-indulgences here. Masses of Facebook greetings and nice cards including a splendid rollicking verse from Peter Scupham. And daughter H produces an entire alphabet of verse, eg
...H is Papa's daughter
She looks like Papa too.
Some say that it is hard
To tell just who is who.
(Though H says that's not true.)
I was the Injury
Sustained back in the days
When Papa was a matador:
An interesting phase.
J is Jazz piano
Papa plays at night.
He cannot see the black notes so he
Only plays the white..
All true. My matador days were brief but glorious. I took the mat over to the door and laid it neat and flat, thereby immediately transforming myself from matador to flatador. It was easy. The rest is bull.
Verses come with utterly convincing drawings. Right through to Z for Zenith.
Present from combined second generation a finger-touch iPod. It's a beautiful piece of kit. I feel empowered and ready to face the next sixty years. Dinner with second generation plus quartet of lovely friends.
Self-indulgence stops here. And no YouTubery today. I think I have exhausted both YouTube's and my own patience with them for a week. Normal service to resume tomorrow.