An odd day
Yesterday was my birthday.
Well, strictly speaking it wasn’t my birth day birthday as I would be pretty fucking remarkable if I could type this at only one day old. So for the pedants amongst us, yesterday was the anniversary of my birthday.
69 is an odd number, not only because it’s not even but it’s also an upside down number. It has only happened three times before – when I was 1, 8 and 11. It won’t happen again until I’m 88 and then at 96 and 101.
Now this demonstrates the way my mind works. I can’t just accept a number and leave it at that. I have to work out all these stupid little facts and it is a facet of my brain that I find very irritating at times. It’s a waste of time and brainpower but it’s just something I have had to learn to live with.
Incidentally, I also appreciate the other significance of 69 but I’m getting a little long in the tooth for that, and so is Herself.
I spent a quiet day. Herself had forgotten all about birthdays and that was fine by me. I’m not a birthday person. So I toddled off down to the village with Penny and had a quiet celebration with a couple of mugs of coffee in the pissing rain.
Later, I was quietly sitting at home minding my own business when the five Grandkids arrived. Now I only have four Grandkids and only three of those are mobile [another odd number], yet five [odd?] had crowded in the door. Luckily I realised that the extra kids were friends which goes to show I’m not senile yet.
We had a little party. They had brought Cidona [or maybe it was Cider?] and chocolates and a fine time was had by all [except for Granddaughter the Younger who maintained that the drink did funny things to her nose so she had blackcurrant juice instead].
Along with sweets and drinks [and home made birthday cards] they had also bought a present from Daughter. She had bought me a pair of shoes, which is great as I needed them. However it took the Grandkids to notice they were odd shoes [maybe I am going senile after all?]. Now I wasn’t sure if this was intentional and that I was supposed to wear them as oddities [I quite liked the idea] or whether I had in fact received two pairs of shoes, where one of each pair was missing.
I phoned Daughter. Initially she said it was intentional and the idea was that I use a crutch and only wear one shoe at a time but then admitted that the shop assistant had fucked up. She still had the receipt so that was fine. I returned the odd shoes.
One way or another, it was a day of oddities.
I enjoyed it though.
Some folk say that 69’s very good, others say it’s simply a matter of taste – whatever, enjoy it, if only because it beats the alternative.
I tend to take things as they come. I’m new to this though. I have never been 69 before.
Well since I turned 69 a good six weeks ago, I feel sufficiently experienced to pass on some pearls of wisdom.
It really ain’t no different to being 68, or 67…
Happy Birthday x
Thanks Carol [x]
A neighbour here. a man who was 6′ 4″ in height and around eighteen stone in weight, was sat on a bar stool when someone had the temerity to point out that he was wearing odd shoes.
“Yes,” he said, “I have another pair like it at home.”
I was quite happy to keep them even if they were odd. After all, I gave up trying to match socks years ago. I don’t think anyone ever noticed.
See “The Shawshank Redemption”, where an escape plan depends upon no one noticing footwear (about five minutes from the end).
An odd day. I come from an odd family. My parents were born in November. The 5th and the 17th. They were married in May on the 5th. They had 9 children all born on odd numbered days. The oldest girl and the youngest girl were born on the same day nine years apart. The 17th. They had 13 grandchildren of which 11 were born on odd numbered days. Two grandchildren were adopted.
I come from an odd family.
With profligate breeding like that, you’re not Brian Frog are you? (See previous post)
Hah! I haven’t gone into that much detail. However I can say that I have only ever lived in houses with odd numbers.
Best wishes a day late – and all the best for the future.
As Woody Allen said in an interview when asked, “What would you like people to be saying about you a hundred years from now?”
“I’d like ’em to be saying, ‘Gee, you look good for your age!'”
Belated Happy Birthday. It was my birthday too, I’m a year older than you. Funny how being in my seventies sounds so much older than being 69.
An even more belated Happy Birthday to you too FrankH. I used to think fifty was old until I arrived at my fiftieth. Then it became sixty until I turned sixty. I’m training myself to think of eight as being the benchmark now so it won’t be such a shock next year.
And a Happy Belated Birthday and all the best from me as well. Sorry I’m late. I just can’t seem to on time for anything these days.
I’ll be 60 next month (yup, still a young’in in comparison?) and exactly what that means I have no idea. Some sort of milestone I suppose but I can’t guess of what.