So it's the evening of my 60'th birthday, and we're sitting in an RV park about a hundred miles from work, on a 3-day weekend. I helped a guy struggle with his new awning this afternoon...held a chair for him while he used it to get to the roof ladder, and watched with interest while he figured out the problem for himself. Having exhausted my technical expertise, I bid him "good evening" and headed for my rig.
I'm seriously considering, no, I'm definitely planning to strongly suggest my long-suffering wife cut a piece of sweet potato pie for each of us now and put some whipped cream on them. After all, it's my birthday, and I have been using the anniversary of an event for which I cannot take any credit as an excuse to receive all kinds of treats ever since I can remember. Why not tonight?
I just dropped a hint, and she went for it (heh-heh).
It's pie time.
That was good. Birthday pie with whipped cream in the shape of a "60". The bigger the number, the more whipped cream.
So for the night, we'll kick back. I'll do some laundry in the morning and we'll probably tool around for a few hours before heading back to work. This kind of life is great. We work a season or two at a time and move on, choose the jobs we really want to do, and enjoy perks of the non-cash variety, which are the best anyway.
Some people get depressed when they hit a milestone like 60. I think it's great. I'm just reaching the point where I can appreciate the things that really have value, and I'm ready to take full advantage of it. A hundred, or even 50 years ago, reaching this age was a sign you had one foot in the grave. These days it's the start of a richer and more rewarding life, lived from a deeper perspective than ever before.
If you're all weepy now, you'll just have to provide your own tissues.
See Ya,
-Geezerguy
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