Post 447. DONE AND DUSTED

ANOTHER

THAT WAS MY 92ND.

Yes, the sands of time have been kind to me so I'll have no cause for demurral when the tide finally washes me away. I shall go loving my family, loathing most politicians, disliking almost all reality television, thankful for friends, and eternally grateful for the nice people, mostly on the lower rungs of the ladder, who have somehow made up for the many appalling pricks at the top.

I'm sure I've done the reflective thing in past posts, but repetition is no stranger to anyone who writes. Many far more professional writers than I have written one decent yarn and thereafter produced only modified versions of it, so why break the mould?

I have always been a part-time curmudgeon and a full-time cynic. It's too late to change that.
But somewhere between surliness and cynicism lurks the sentimental, and I am almost beyond words to express my gratitude for the kindness of family and buddies who sent messages and celebratory cards to us this week, or for the love of those who visited. Thank you, my dears.

That's all for this month.
There will be plenty to criticise in October.