Last week around this time it was my birthday,
as the cricket score would say 78 not out.
Contrary to doctors' expectations,
I have outlived their predictions
by eleven years and counting . . .
even the heavens seemed to celebrate
a late afternoon rainbow
spanning the farmyard
what better birthday present is there?
Actually there was, DD* took me for a picnic morning tea
at Jenkins Scrub where the wild orchids were in bloom
and while we wandered there
suddenly, our of the bushes came my son and his
elder daughter who had flown over from Sydney
to surprise me.
I felt I was the luckiest of mortals to have
so many dear ones around me.
* DD = darling daughter