Thirty Five

For my thirty-fifth birthday today we let the kids skivvy off school and took them to a wide beach of Lake Erie to play.



















The children had a lovely time and were thrilled not to be at school, the poor overworked things.



















We climbed out over the breakwall, and Skaterboy was thrilled to catch a fish with the rather startling name, Black Crappie. Not to be confused, apparently, with Bondi Cigars, which is what it makes me think of.















We collected beach glass, smooth stones and pretty shells, and had a wild game of monkey in the middle in the water.















I had the full thirty-five candles on my cake, which really set it blazing. It would be reasonable I think, to expect that not withstanding something drastic and unforeseen, I must be about halfway through my journey here. And as my Dad so astutely pointed out, the slide is greased in this direction.



















Thanks Dad. I'll take that wisdom and my beautiful stolen day at the beach with me into my thirty-sixth year.