Rising from the grave

It’s Easter. I didn’t dye any eggs. On the upside, I also didn’t die. It seemed I might, but like the Easter miracle, I survived. Just days after I recovered from whatever unpleasant Mexican illness I returned home with, I got a second, much worse dose of something that essentially prevented me from my elaborate Easter decoration schemes and plans. It prevented me from doing pretty much anything including shaving (or writing this blog).

So I now have a 5 day growth of beard. I cannot decide if I’m on the verge of looking distinguished or homeless and possibly disreputable.

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