Half Life

Sarah by the track.

Today, Sarah joined the Three-and-Seven Club. A good day:

• A fancy night in a fancy hotel. (The kids were tended by a kindly grandparent. Thanks, mom.)
• Super Sunday. (Not a bad day for a birthday.)
• An afternoon at the racetrack.*
• Perfect weather. (I ordered it extra-special.)
  

Sarah and I met when we were eighteen-and-a-half. I'm no math teacher, but by my calculations, thirty-seven puts us more or less** at the the Half-Our-Lives-Together mark. I like it.

* We had no no dramatic wins or losses, but we did see a jockey thrown from his horse in one of the races. Fortunately he was uninjured.

** I considered a more precise calculation, but calendar math makes my head hurt—all those leap-years and irregular month-lengths.