Day before 70th
Drawing was unremarkable yesterday. I was a little late – underestimated the time it would take to get to the atelier and then left late – so I didn't get there until the last 5-minute drawing and the long one.

For the short one I just sketched with a fountain pen, and then switched to a pencil for the long one. Didn't feel especially in-the-groove, so I didn't stay for the prone pose. It was getting hotter by the minute, and I wanted to bike before it got too hot or thunderstormy.
In the event, I had time for a long soak in the tub before the first thunder.
Mike and Sharon Tackaberry came up from Orlando – she's volunteered to help with my birthday party today. Then niece Lore and Tim showed up with armloads of food! Tim loves to experiment in the kitchen, and he went on a Turkish binge. Great slow-cooked lamb chops and strange meatbally things. Plenty of cous-cous and veggies and salad.
A fine party ensued, sort of a warm-up for today. It will be smaller than New Year's Eve; I think at last count there were 43 invited. At Gay's suggestion we're having it catered. I wanted a Mexican fiesta from my favorite place, El Jimador, but Gay pleaded for less spicy. We went with a catering service that Lore and Tim had success with.
My instinct is to downplay the specialness of the number, seventy being about the number of birthdays the bible allows you. It sayeth
The days of our years are threescore years and ten; and if by reason of strength they be fourscore years, yet is their strength labor and sorrow; for it is soon cut off, and we fly away.
which verily sucks. Shakespeare doesn't improve on it in Macbeth –
Threescore and ten I can remember well: Within the volume of which time I have seen Hours dreadful and things strange . . .
Fortunately, I've had my own hours wonderful and strange. And according to the government, I have 16.33 years left, in which case I might just barely see humans land on Mars. Probably speaking Chinese, but that's okay.
Happy unbirthday to the rest of you!
Joe

For the short one I just sketched with a fountain pen, and then switched to a pencil for the long one. Didn't feel especially in-the-groove, so I didn't stay for the prone pose. It was getting hotter by the minute, and I wanted to bike before it got too hot or thunderstormy.
In the event, I had time for a long soak in the tub before the first thunder.
Mike and Sharon Tackaberry came up from Orlando – she's volunteered to help with my birthday party today. Then niece Lore and Tim showed up with armloads of food! Tim loves to experiment in the kitchen, and he went on a Turkish binge. Great slow-cooked lamb chops and strange meatbally things. Plenty of cous-cous and veggies and salad.
A fine party ensued, sort of a warm-up for today. It will be smaller than New Year's Eve; I think at last count there were 43 invited. At Gay's suggestion we're having it catered. I wanted a Mexican fiesta from my favorite place, El Jimador, but Gay pleaded for less spicy. We went with a catering service that Lore and Tim had success with.
My instinct is to downplay the specialness of the number, seventy being about the number of birthdays the bible allows you. It sayeth
The days of our years are threescore years and ten; and if by reason of strength they be fourscore years, yet is their strength labor and sorrow; for it is soon cut off, and we fly away.
which verily sucks. Shakespeare doesn't improve on it in Macbeth –
Threescore and ten I can remember well: Within the volume of which time I have seen Hours dreadful and things strange . . .
Fortunately, I've had my own hours wonderful and strange. And according to the government, I have 16.33 years left, in which case I might just barely see humans land on Mars. Probably speaking Chinese, but that's okay.
Happy unbirthday to the rest of you!
Joe
Published on June 09, 2013 05:25
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