Since the photo over there to the right is nearly seven years old, I thought you might like to see what we look like today.
Here we are, Mr. and Mrs. Rhymeswithplague, outside our church on Easter Sunday morning:
Mrs. RWP is as beautiful as ever. I may be a bit longer in the tooth, but I am still hanging in there. Either my head is shrinking or my ears are growing.
Robert Browning probably summed it up best: "Grow old along with me! / The best is yet to be, / The last of life, for which the first was made."
We are not throwing in the towel just yet. We hope to be around for a while longer yet.
Stay tuned.
(Editor's note. I definitely am
slipping slowing down, though. I let April 18th go by without once mentioning Paul Revere's 1775 ride or even Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, and I let April 19th go by without mentioning the Battles of Lexington and Concord in our little spat with George III or even Ralph Waldo Emerson's 1837 poem "Concord Hymn" -- you know, the one that begins "By the rude bridge that arched the flood, / Their flag to April's breeze unfurled, / Here once the embattled farmers stood / And fired the shot heard 'round the world". I shall try to do better by you in the future.
--RWP)
