Workers of the world unite!
Jenny and I loved May Day, because it was a dual celebration, one for the revolution, and the other for pagans. What's not to love?
And May was always Jenny month, because she demanded a 31-day celebration of her birthday. She'd be 37 this year, and we'd be able to speculate over whether 37 indicated mid-thirties or late-thirties (or late-mid-thirties, or early-late-thirties).
May used to mean lots of dinners out, maybe a 3-day trip to Mexico, the storytelling festival, some sunny Oakland walks, composing a Fun List with our best friend Meggie, lattes and croissants at the too-crowded tables at Royal Coffee on College Avenue, planning the next big house party (Themes: Tiki? Monster trucks? Maxapalooza?), and presents of Japanese stickers, photos, books, paintings. Here's to May 27th! Cumpleanos feliz.
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