I am seventy-three. I am definitely not seeking adventure. I have arthritis and no longer move fast enough for that. If adventure sneaked up on me, it would do me in. However, when I dream, I am in my prime, sometimes beyond my prime. Sometimes I fly, leap tall buildings with a single bound, or accomplish monumental feats effortlessly. I suppose I’ll have to be content with that. Actually, I never was adventurous, so nothing has changed.

October 1950. Much older
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Another 1951 baby eh. What a good year that was. Hugs
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Actually October 1950. How about you?
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January 1951. Hugs
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