A day for cupcakes

Almost didn't get one, as the day vaporized into chorin' around, including busing out to pick up one of our vehicles after its geriatric service appointment; but after a beer and a bite with our son and his girlfriend, she brought me a nice big chocolate cupcake from the Co-op later. Gloomy fricking climate we got here, but one must rally on one's day of birth.
I found this passage in one of the Irish Ghost Stories I've been reading. It is by a Victorian era writer named Charlotte Riddell, and is from a story called "The Last of Squire Ennismore":
"It was getting to the end of April, and fine, warm weather for the time of year, when first one and then another, and then another still, began to take notice of a stranger who walked the shore alone at night. He was a dark man, the same color as the drowned crew lying in the chapel graveyard, and had rings in his ears, and wore a strange kind of hat, and cut wonderful antics as he walked, and had an ambling gait, curious to look at."
As I read it, the image that came to mind was Johnny Depp as Captain Jack Sparrow. I won't reveal more, as you may want to read this some day. A standout was "The Canterville Ghost" by Oscar Wilde, which blends wonderfully sharp satire of Ugly Americans in the Gilded Age, so similar to their descendents today...