By the way, a disturbing development: Today is my Getting Older Day. For my trouble, I got the free birthday breakfast at Denny’s (at 4 p.m.), and wrought away on the post for Mrs. Wright, so that now I have a lot more of it than I can use. Tomorrow I shall have to trim it gently with an axe.
How much older, you ask? I admit to Eleventy-Six; but that is a ruse to make people pet me and flatter me, and tell me that I don’t look a day over Eleventy.
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