Dammit. You can’t make me cry on my birthday. (Crap. You just did.)
Sarah Hina

I really do have plans that post retirement — we set up a village full of writers. We’ll drink through the evening - curse publishers by the campfire, spring poetry out of thin air, and write for every sunset thence.

That is my dream. One, I shall fight to make true.

If not a village, we can surely get a couple of houses by a river. You can feed me pancakes, Jenny can get me Dosas.

And I can die a well fed happy man.

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