Well, this is it. Today I reach seventy-nine and therefore enter my eightieth year. My warmest thanks to those of you who wished me a happy birthday. As soon as the sun starts to come up, I shall take my four mile walk, in a pathetic attempt to deny the passage of time. My walk here does not have the picture postcard delights of my Paris walk. No Notre Dame, no Musee d'Orsay, no Louvre or Jardin des Tuilleries, no Cafe Flore and Deux Magots. But perhaps I will see our resident Blue Heron, always a pleasure.
My birthday present from my grandchildren was a pair of lovely silhouettes in old-fashioned frames, one of Samuel and the other of Athena. They have a place of honor on our mantel now.
My New Year's Resolution will be to make it to eighty. When that happens, I will meditate on ninety.
Happy New Year to all.