Go Shorty, Go Shorty

It’s my birthday! On this day in 1971, I was putting my mom through hell for the first time: two weeks late, 24 inches tall, 10 lbs. & six oz.!

Much love to everyone who neglected to send a card on time, and just a little more to those who did send their cards in time (both of you have the first initial of V, which must have some Pynchonesque significance).

Happy birthday to K., who celebrates this day too.

Best wishes to Smadley, my associate editor at the day job, who runs in her first half-marathon today to benefit leukemia research.

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