It’s my birthday and somehow, someway, I’ve managed to make it to 77

77 years of living on Planet Earth.

Unbelievable. I’m stupefied. How could I have survived so many reckless adventures, moments of farcical stupidity, when countless smarter, more practical people have perished?

Somehow I’ve beaten the odds, but it defies logic.

Oh, make no mistake, I very much appreciate my continued existence. I drink in mouthfuls of fresh air on my morning walks along the seashore. I savor the explosion of tastes biting into Chico’s super burrito. I lie in bed before sunrise thanking whatever gods are watching over me for the blessings that keep on filling my days.

but 77. That’s a big number, a lot bigger number than I ever dreamed of saying out loud on my birthday. And, strangely, I don’t feel what part of me thinks 77 should be feeling. Yes, blindness has kept me from noticing the aging signs in the bathroom mirror so all I can measure aging by is what the body can still do without much help.

Most everything thank you, with no accompanying creaks and groans. that said, I do admit to frequent nighttime trips to the loo which were not necessary in younger years.

Here’s hoping I won’t hyperventilate trying to blow out all those candles.

Best wishes to all for a joyful Thanksgiving holiday

Yours to count on,

Tio Stib aka Uncle Steve