Postcard To Whom It May Concern

 To Whom It May Concern 

Another year, another successful circumnavigation of the sun without being horizontal in a wooden box—so, mustn't grumble.

The big day was... well, it happened. A few brave souls remembered the date and wished me well, though I suspect half of them were prompted by a notification on their glowing rectangles. I’m certainly feeling every one of my years today; my knees now crack louder than the breakfast cereal, and I’ve reached the age where "happy hour" is just a solid nap at 3:00 PM.

In other news, I’ve apparently become a local celebrity on the village Facebook group. Some lovely individual has been saying rather nasty things about me. It’s quite touching, really—I hadn't realized I was interesting enough to merit a smear campaign. I’d respond, but I can’t remember my password and life’s too short to argue with people who use minion memes as profile pictures.

Still miss the better half, of course. The house is far too quiet without her giving GBH of the ears and the kick up the arse when I needed it but I’m keeping the tea warm and the garden manageable.

Apart from the impending total physical collapse and the digital character assassination, all is profoundly well.

Chin up,

Thanks for all the fish 🐠