The wisdom on your face denies the number of your years.

Anniversary dinner.

Difficult days. It is hard to understate my distress over the national situation, like being under occupation yet the oppression has not yet struck me directly. What are we supposed to do? Get in the streets? Which streets? And when? Things are not yet so horrible for enough people to have created the conditions for drastic action.

We spent so much time protesting cabinet positions and knitting hats, and now that families are being torn apart and the borders are closing based on religion, we're just keeping our heads down and bitching on Facebook.

Anyway. This is why I don't want to talk about it.

"I'm fifty, mark you ..."
- Long John Silver
Treasure Island (1883)

Yesterday we celebrated our nineteenth wedding anniversary at the Beach Grill, sitting at a table on our own two tables away from the rest of the gang. It's easy to remember the date of our anniversary because it's one month from my birthday ... which means I turn fifty in a month.

What the fuck have I done?

Anyway, I'll have to change the banner of this blog.

Distance: 1.5 miles
Pace: 9:26
Route: Topsail Beach Run
Temperature: 76•
Climate: partly cloudy & sun
Mood: Good, you know? In spite of everything.

Barefoot run in the surf. Kept a straight back, hitting the sand in the middle of my foot. When I lean forward, I then dig with my toes. This is how the blisters start, and the abrasions begin. Anyway, I will run with shoes tomorrow.

Nice breeze, cool surf, shore birds. My son on Instagram telling everyone I was drunk last night.

Exercises: not yet, there's time.

What's That Lyric?
Gypsy - Suzanne Vega