A Bill of Sights

Photo owned by combustionchamber (cc)

Oh dear. It’s one of those birthdays. The kind that knocks on the door and ask for directions. Or the guy that asked for your digits. The hung-drawn-and-quartered kinda birthday.

I always did really well at school, but never particularly excelled at anything. For me, the process was always as important, if not more important than the product. What can I learn? How can I do better? Is the right question being asked here? Always a shout-out loud reason to love algebra. Always my Friday treat. Always something new to draw freestyle in Art.

And now, somehow I find myself doing that again. In the evenings, I stick my fingers and thumbs in all of the plum pies. Tasting. Prodding. Feeling. Does this smell good?

Perhaps, it’s the realisation that this year wears a pretty dress. Or that the things we do and the people we share those baubles with is our great work in progress. I’m choosing more of those things and I want to choose more of those people too.

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