Well, yesterday was my 47th birthday! I really don't FEEL that old. Most of the time I still think of myself as about 35 (although sometimes I feel ancient!) Anyway, my Dad called late last night to wish me a happy b-day, reminding me of the fact that I share that day with his father, something I think about every year. Pop-pop was an crotchety old fart;,very meticulous in all he attemted. Whether sewing beautiful clothing, making furniture, tile-work, housepainting, gardening or just about everything.There were two things he excelled at; arguing for argument's sake, and oil painting. He was a true artist, and I can thank him for any creative juices that flow through my veins. My Dad said that he had a half-gallon jug of Pop-pop's homemade wine (which is probably about 25 years old) that he and my uncle John planned to share in a toast at the family home in Placitas , New Mexico. Dad said he was having a sample, only to check the quality of course, and it was still pretty good. They will meet on Saturday and raise their glasses to commemorate Pop-pop's 100th birthday. Wow. Here's to you, Poppy.