So, I am aging, apparently. I crossed that great threshhold on Sunday. No longer a paltry twenty-three, I am a magnificent twenty-four. Heh. Here are pictures.

P.S. Thanks to my guests for a fun time and lovely gin, among other things.

P.P.S. If you are wandering around in a swamp with a wineglass in one hand and a cigar in another, that means you don’t have a hand for the stick you should be using to check under fallen logs for venomous vipers. Safety first, people!

Here’s a thought for today from Oswald Chambers’ My Utmost for His Highest:

I may have a right conception of God, and that may be the very reason why I do not do my duty. But wherever there is vision, there is a life of rectitude because the vision imparts moral incentive.

I’m not the one to expound on that, but if you have the book, be sure to read and meditate on the rest of today’s devotional.

I hate it when you get a filling in the upper back of your mouth and your eye and nose go numb.

Evelyn was making out with herself in the mirror this morning. No kidding. Yesterday afternoon she laid her head on my stomach and hissed at the baby like a little snake or opossum. Then she tried to teach him how to say dada. Today she is with her greatgrandparents Poulsen. I am glad for the rest.

Does anyone know of to get orange Asiatic Lilly pollen out of a white shirt?