I am posting this today, as I won’t be online tomorrow (but I’ll check back on Saturday morning).
Tomorrow, a cataclysmic event happens in the Northwest. Thunder will roll. The earth will open up and swallow the weak. Old women will cross themselves. Children will tremble.
Yes, the event is happening. No amount of wishing otherwise will prevent it. But I welcome it, nonetheless. Bring it on.
Tomorrow, brider enters the realm of the quadragenarians, masters, officially becoming an “old fart.” That’s right, the big four-oh.
And while the calendar says I’ve passed my fourth decade, the image in the mirror says otherwise. A lifetime of athletic activity (so far) has kept me young in appearance and young at heart.
Some say that life begins at forty. That’s only if you haven’t lived until then. I have lived. Life is good, and getting better. The best years, however, are still ahead of me.
So tomorrow heave a weight, hoist a glass, and raise a cheer to life for me. Enjoy the day. I’ll be celebrating.