In less than two hours I will be sixty. It’s a nice round number. If I can say anything positive about turning 60, it would be that I love that people my age are called sexagenarians. The word sounds a little dirty and I almost expect a rebuke for using it.
|Tiger, tiger, burning bright|
|In the forests of the night,|
|What immortal hand or eye|
|Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?|
As time rolls by, I am made more and more aware of Blake’s tiger. I usually shake him off after my second cup of coffee but in my quiet moments I am still aware that I am being stalked.
Happy Birthday to me … Happy Birthday to me …
Don’t get me wrong, I am thankful for making it this far. I am also thankful for good friends and family, a soft cushion, a good book, and plenty of sweet tea.
… and bubble bath.