I don’t much like hanging out at the Skate Center, aurally assaulted by thumping waves of what we used to call bubble-gum music and cringing as underskilled novices tumble again and again to the real meaning of gravity. And nobody should go there, Yogi Berra might have said, it’s too crowded. But that’s where the birthday girl wanted to celebrate her tenth birthday with friends from school, so that’s where we hung out for a couple hours on Saturday. A whole decade under her belt: a real milestone, and the look on her face during the Happy Birthday serenade made the aggravation go away.

Another milestone: the neighbor girl who was five when we moved in had an open house to mark her High School graduation.

And another, coming fast: anniversary #16.

It’s the biggest cliche but what else can you say? Milestones eventually look like gravestones.  Tempus fugit.  Memento mori. Carpe diem. Carpe vitam. Sic transit gloria. (Speaking of transit…)

Roman milestones 1

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