Refreshing Disappointment

I've been stalling for weeks about writing this post, because I was keen to track the progress of Andrew's latest excursion, the one where he shells out about $20,000 to walk up a hill. I mean, it's a real nice hill, sure, but it would have to be. And OK, he didn't just walk up a hill. He also went to someone's 65th birthday party. Which is great; I'd invite him to mine, no question, if he hadn't promised to be dead by then.

I just hope he's calmed down since my 18th. He's always had this puppy-like quality: the pleading eyes, the urge for company, the smell, everything.  I think it was my 18th where he also started being affectionate like a puppy. Not everybody likes that. Those slippers had to be burnt too.

Anyway, the latest seems to be that he's back down from Kilimanjaro and it's late October. I'm pretty sure it's not. I'm not having another Thanksgiving without knowing whether or not Andrew's still alive. We might all have a lot more to be thankful for than we know.