Well, another revolution around the sun completed—66 of them now. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, all that good stuff. I may not be quite the energetic, daft young fellow I was yesterday, but I'm doing all right. Ms. B. had surgery earlier this week, so I've been playing almost-nurse maid for a couple of days, but she's doing as well as can be expected, and she felt up to going out for dinner tonight (though not up to the Blue Ridge Parkway and Chateau Morrisette, which was our first choice prior to knowing her surgery schedule.
But I jump ahead. I woke up right about sun-up, buried by the usual furry suspects, though I lay in bed for another hour or so. Once up and about, I decided to head down toward Reidsville for some traditional birthday geocaching. There were 17 mostly park & grab caches awaiting my presence, so I knocked them out and got back home at lunchtime, so I treated myself to a grilled cheese sandwich. Hopefully, all that cheesy, buttery goodness won't subtract a year from the life clock. Lord knows I haven't eaten all that healthily since the first of the year. But I've been walking my ass off daily; as of now, my 365-day average daily number of steps is 8,890 (4.03 miles per day).
So, for dinner, we went to TAD Tavern, Martinsville's most upscale restaurant
(which I hope is doing okay because there wasn't much of a crowd tonight). I
had a fantastic bison steak, with martini, and Kim had a brussels sprout salad
with chicken and a Chardonnay. Then we came home and spent the usual late
evening watching TV together (Godzilla vs. Destroyah and
Dexter: Original Sin).
Ms. B. gave me a Godzilla figure as a present. Any birthday with Godzilla is a
lovely birthday. Hopefully, we'll all make it till next year and there will be
more Godzilla. Peace out.
