We are leaving America on my birthday. The lyrics to an old John Denver song have been playing in my head all morning: "He was born in the summer of his 27th year". What a GREAT first line to a song - a do-over. So this is my birthday song, and today is my birthday gift to myself: "She was born in the winter of her 57th year. Going home to a place she'd never been before. She left yesterday behind her, you might say she was born again. You might say she'd found a key for every door." Bon voyage, y'all!
PS Ron too has been humming an old John Denver tune all morning: "I'm leaving on a jet plane; don't know when I'll be back again...."
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