Birthday – 33 – woke up at noon and am having a Bass Ale for breakfast. Back when I turned thirty-one I posted the following on this blog:

“Thirty one years ago this weekend my mother spent several hours in a hallway in a small hospital in Garoka, New Guinea bringing me into the world. I wasn’t expected to arrive until a few days later, but the rough trip into Garoka from the station must have convinced us both to get on with things as she’d only been in town a few hours when her water broke. My father, planning to arrive around the expected date, was actually golfing on a makeshift dirt airstrip when I was born.”

Like father like son. I still have a big purple bruise from a bad sprain I got golfing a week and a half ago. For those of you unfortunate enough to have seen this wound I would like to assure you that it’s getting better.

He was 42 when I was born.



The plan for today is to go buy a new DVD player, go to a happy hour with teaching friends and then have dinner with Jes’ brother Josh and assorted family members. Anyway, best get on with it. Thanks for stopping by.