Just a perfick day. My birthday, Wednesday, was,
like the electron, a bi-locating affair. The Beloved and I spent the morning pootling about in the garden - a lot of shovelling compost and transporting water - and then set off for Costa na Déise to start a week of caring for Pat the Salt my venerable F-in-L. After
a thanksgiving dinner that couldn't be beat we all set to on a generous tranche of of the pictured cake . . . with a few tart strawberries as counterpoint. But Pat goes to bed early, whatever the state of light beyond the window so I was able to escape for a yomp along the beach at Kilfarrasy.
As I haven't gotten my toes salt-wet since the beginning of March, I was delighted with myself.
On going to bed in daylight; my mother maintained that she never taught her children how to tell the time so that she could hoosh us off to bed when she had had enough.
"But can't we stay out a little longer? Vitamin D is still a-makin'"
"Nope, it's bed o'clock; I'll read you a story"
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