ambigrammatical

Weird decade, the 70s. Backward is forward now. I had a strange dream last night that I was undergoing an ineluctable, unwanted upgrade to my operating system, with all the aches and pains of old age being installed.  They say you never actually taste or feel things in dreams, but my (as yet undamaged) knee hurt.
Ah well.  Better over the hill than under it.

I’m doing this birthday as a patchwork of events.  I share the day (though not the year) with my dear friend B., and I went to a small party for her 80th, with all the windows wide open, a Renaissance/Baroque brass ensemble, cake and champagne.  That was glorious. Tomorrow, I'm having dinner with another dear friend, and on Saturday (d.v.), B. and I are exchanging presents.  She is the best opener of new books that I know, and I’ve hoarded some beauties for her, on Egyptology, Arabic script, bibliophilia.

I love that 12/2/21 is palindromic and ambigrammatical.

Fox and I have been playing at quests in the park, past the albino crocodiles of the crossing, and down into my basement.  One of my bluegreen shirts has become the Cloak of Invisibility; someone's discarded furniture, the Bear Chair; and the snow blower, an oracle.  So far, we’ve achieved the Amethyst Crown, a Time-Traveller (old-fashioned pyramidal metronome). and the Wicked Witch’s broom.  This week, I’m thinking of hiding some flashy costume jewelry.

Nine