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Monday, April 8, 2002

We obviously don't have enough holidays already, so I'm proposing another one. I think the first Monday after the spring time change should be a free day, since the Sunday before didn't have enough hours in it. It would give us (okay, me) an extra day to adjust, plus a four-day week in case one solitary day didn't get us (me) back in synch. The extra double-bonus benefit is that every six years or so my birthday would fall on that holiday (as it would have this year).

The family got together at Mom's tonight to celebrate my lasting this long. We always give special credit to Mom herself, for having sprung me on this date oh so many years ago. Tonight she gets extra credit for the taco salad and pasta, and for bringing us all together (except for Eric, who couldn't make it).

We got a little silly tonight. Mom showed us the invitation to her high school reunion for graduating classes from 1900 to 1945, and we wondered how all those people would fit in one room. (She graduated in 1944, by the way, so she'll be one of the youngest there if she goes.)

She told some stories about high school, and David told some of his stories (he graduated in 1999), including one she hadn't heard before about the time he jumped off a scaffold onto a trampoline and bounced head first into the shallow end of a motel pool in Willits. He survived with no noticeable effect, but we kept the story from Mom until now anyway.

Then after dinner we started reading the place mats, and things got really crazy. I only had one piece of pie, but that was after two helpings of taco salad and two helpings of pasta. I'd skipped lunch, because I knew that no matter how hard Mom tries, she'll always provide more food than we can eat. I think I brought enough home for two more meals.

Mom had already given me her present, tickets to Thursday's Giants game. David gave me a ceramic birdbath that will look terrific in my garden. The birdbaths I already have were thrown together using lightweight planters, turned upside down with the trays on top, but the trays blow off whenever the wind blows through. This new one is a heavyweight that isn't going anywhere. Suzanne and John gave me a beautiful print of a painting by local artist and family friend Beverly Colburn. It's already on my wall. (The birdbath will be set up tomorrow.)

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Reprinted without permission, so enjoy it until the summons is served.

I woke up this morning in the dark, and it took me most of the day to get moving at full speed. I can blame the time change, but I also have to remember that I'm now fifty-mumble years old. For someone who was born during the Truman Administration, it takes more energy than it used to just to sit upright with my eyes open for a few hours at a time.

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One year ago: Menu Overload
"If there's the possibility of a brawl on the field, you couldn't pry me away with a 40-ounce corked bat."

Two years ago: I'm Slackman
"I'm a true blue, dyed-in-the-wool slacker. Someone else will have to dye the wool blue, though, because I'm not up for it."

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