2035

Tomorrow is my birthday. I will be 100 – yes, a one  with two fat zeros. They told me the telegram from King Charles is on it’s way. We still are a monarchy. Australians don’t dare to offend the English. Now is not the time, is the slogan.

That I’m still alive is just a miracle. When I was born I had a live expectancy of only sixty-four years. Against all expectations, and daydreaming by my wife, I’m still here. She has been a strong blogger for a long time and in 2007 forecast that in 2017 I will be dead and buried. Her wishful thinking never came true. I’m still around and she is still blogging to her heart’s content. Mind you she is blind but she knows were the keys on the keyboard are. The other day she pronounced with heightened optimisms that I wouldn’t last forever…