Random, Thoughts, X,XXIV

One year (in the 90s), my brother calls me on his birthday and wishes me a happy birthday. I reminded him that it was his birthday and asked what’s up. His family was on a channel isle for his wife’s field work. He worked that day and was home alone, drinking a beer. I popped open a beer, and we talked for about an hour, drinking beers. The following year, I was home alone after work on my birthday. I grabbed a beer, called my brother, and wished him a happy birthday. Life… is.
 
My forgetful old self thought I'd already wished you a Happy Burfsdayz, but meaning to and actually doing it aren't the same.

Happy Name Day, Sir Skwirrzel.

A toast to the 3 American birds:
May you have an eagle in your pocket,
A chicken on your table,
And Wild Turkey in your glass!
 
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