It’s not MY birthday, but I celebrated anyway ...

It was another spectacular weather day. At this rate, when the real first day of Spring arrives, we will treat it as nothing special after this slew of quasi-Spring days we’ve enjoyed.

We all have Spring fever on top of it – I mean, who doesn’t want to be out in this fine weather? I’ve heard the roar of motorcycles every evening the past week and the bikers are in Hog heaven.

I hated to return from this morning’s walk, and lingered just a little longer visiting with Jenny, our mail carrier, who finally returned to work this past Tuesday, after she took a nasty slip-and-fall on an icy porch step at the beginning of the year.

Usually on George Washington’s birthday, we would be slogging through slush and snow, our faces bent toward the ground, not only to thwart the stinging winds, but, also because we are dejected about the seemingly endless Winter.

George Washington, he being of sound character and cherry tree and wooden teeth fame, also, as you know, added to his credentials, being the father of our country. And, just like that young future President who proclaimed “I cannot tell a lie” ... I, too, am not lying when I tell you that I crossed that 100-miles-walked threshold today. So, that is a cause for celebration - for me anyway.

My walk was to the tracks and back, and, on the return trip, I saw the mailman who delivers on Emmons Boulevard. We always exchange pleasantries whenever our paths cross, and, I have often kidded him about his shorts, which he wears long past the time the rest of have retired our shorts, (usually until the following Memorial Day). He tells me “I like to have air on my legs and I can move faster when I’m wearing shorts!” When I saw him this morning, I pointed at his legs and said “and why did I know you would be sporting shorts today?” He laughed, and I said “as usual, I am overdressed.” Then, when I arrived home, there was Jenny, similarly dressed in shorts and a short-sleeved shirt. I told her about my encounter and she knew right away whom I meant – “oh yeah, that’s Dave” she said. Maybe it is a mail carrier thing with the shorts?

I have to start living dangerously too – I think I am getting too old and staid.

Back in the day, my mom always baked mini cherry pies on Washington’s birthday. We’d have them hot out of the oven for dessert, with a generous scoop of Ben & Jerry’s Cherry Garcia ice cream plopped on top. Oh, that was such a tasty treat. Sometimes, we substituted B&J’s Cherry Garcia frozen yogurt, which was pretty special too, and that, by George, is no lie.

Speaking of George Washington, I’m sure a passel of dollar bills were exchanged for lottery tickets by people anxious to win the big prize of $403 million in tonight’s Powerball drawing. I actually broke down and spent $2.00 for one ticket when I bought gas the other day. That jackpot is an obscene amount of money for one person to win. For me, I’d be content to get a four-number prize, or a mere million. I told the gas station owner I’d stay my sweet and simple self and still come in to top off my tank every two months, like I do now. I needn’t worry, and neither should you if you got some tickets, because the odds are 1 in 292,200,000+ chance of being the big winner.

You sure could make, buy and/or eat a lot of cherry pies with that kind of dough!

[Image by Tumisu from Pixabay]

You can catch up on my blog posts before I started blogging at Patch in August 2013 by going here: http://lindaschaubblog.net/