Today, so the calendar tells me, is my birthday. I had hoped to have Superversive available today, but matters became complicated when ‘The exotic and the familiar’ firmly announced that it needed to be in the book. (It was right.) So the release is delayed a few days.
As for my age: I admit to 117, but the Powers That Be have an unreasoning reluctance to pay me a pension, and insist that I am only fifty. Whichever is the case, as Aragorn said, I am no longer young even in the reckoning of the Men of the Ancient Houses. Wish me well, Loyal Readers, on the back side of the hill.
Many happy returns! I am eagerly awaiting Superversive…
Happy Birthday!
Happy birthday!
(Yes, ‘The exotic and the familiar’ was right. Looking forward to the book.)
Happy birthday. (Happy other days, too, but I’m not going to start singing “a very merry unbirthday to you” every day. )
Many happy returns of the day.
We must therefore now break out the Birthday Dirge, as sung to the tune of “The Volga Boatman”:
HAP-py BIRTH-day (thud!)
HAP-py BIRTH-day (thud!)
People dying everywhere,
People crying in despair . . . .
——-BUT!!!!!!
HAP-py BIRTH-day (thud!)
HAP-py BIRTH-day (thud!)
May there be many happy, or at least moderately contented, returns of the day.
HIPY PAPY BTHUTHDTH THUTHDA BTHUTHDY
May the muses inspire you,
Ever smiling as they do;
May your pen never lack ink
And write faster than you think;
May your books always be sold
And your stories ever told.
Ad multos annos!
Many happy returns of the day!
Happy birthday, Mr. Simon.
Strange. I know a good four people who have their birthday on October 5.
At any rate, I hope the oversight is corrected and your proper age of 117 is restored. Happy birthday!
A belated happy birthday, Mr. Simon!
You’re a mere child in how we reckon age (which means I’m a lot older, and still here).
Happy belated birthday! On travel, just saw this.
Belated Happy Birthday!