On this day, I say:

I always intended to head this blog with a favourite picture from a  road trip. It shows the view going down a long  gradual  incline. Because it always seemed that that's what aging would be, a gradual incline. Sometimes though, you find yourself free wheeling down the road maybe  pulled into the invisible slipstream, pulled along with ever increasing speed with no desire to hit the brakes to back off and let them race on.

Once  coming through the mountains of BC many years ago, I saw a family picnicking. A classic bucolic scene so ordinary as to be trite. Wicker hamper and plaid blanket, man and woman with small child, boot of the car open and a vista of highway and a swiftly flowing river with a backdrop of snow capped mountains they, the family appeared so ordinary and unaware. Their choice of picnic site not an abandoned roadway or wayside  as they may have imagined but, a run away lane.

Sometimes life is a picnic.

I know I'm old

In the market  I went looking for a small bottle of ketchup.  That never happened when my boys were about.
We buy apples in threes, one for him and one for me, and one for whom ever enjoyed their first. Then we shop again.

Recently the maple syrup went moldy.

"How long has it been since we made pancakes?" he asked.