It should come as no surprise (IMHO) that my birthday is a national holiday, and now that it has passed, I can get down to business. If for some reason your cards and gifts got lost in the mail, feel free to forward them on to me c/o The River Reporter. Meanwhile, in a fitting “insult-to-injury” tribute, I tore my rotator cuff in celebration of another semi-successful trip around the sun, and I’m told it could take a year to heal; therefore it’s possible that I’ll be complaining about it for many, many months. You’re welcome.

In anticipation of the rumor mill thrumming about my three-day weekend filled with drunken birthday escapades, let me just say that I hurt my shoulder opening a window. That’s right, once one is of a “certain age” it doesn’t take much to begin the slow, agonizing descent into physical decay, and I inform you thusly simply as a cautionary tale. You’re welcome.

Before you know it, I’ll be complaining that it’s too hot, the clouds are too fluffy and that the lake is too wet, so rather than sit home whining about this and that, I made the rounds over the past few days and snapped some photos of folks getting out and about, limbs intact, now that nice weather has finally arrived. I’m hoping to expand my horizons beyond the standard 3Ps (puppet shows, plays and parades) that make up my weekly routine, but with so many activities and events on the horizon, I don’t want to look too far ahead and instead, just take it one month at a time. After all, June is bustin’ out all over.