Eighty

Today is my 80th Birthday.

It's a Marmite Day. That is to say one either loves it or hates it.

A friend recently reached that age and refused to acknowledge it.

I want everyone to know and I shall be celebrating. Nothing extravagant: just coffee with friends in the morning at The Woodlands. In the evening Gaz and Carol are taking me and my sister-in-law (who is staying with me at the moment) out for dinner.

The reason I am celebrating is not just for myself but in thanks to our wonderful NHS without which I would not have lived much past my 16th birthday. At that age I had a disease that still kills people today. However by a stroke of good fortune I was referred to a specialist who (and there were long waiting lists for some operations even then) removed much of one of my diseased lungs.

Since then I've lived with cancer since my prostatectomy in 1997 because some cancer cells had already escaped elsewhere my body. However every time so far that the cancer has started to show signs of asserting itself the medics have found a way to stop it. The last, and currenet, treatment started about 7 or 8 years ago with a drugs trial which proved very successful for me.

I had a heart attack in 2000 and had 6 stents inserted.

I could go on but I think that's quite enough evidence to justify my grateful thanks for the wonderful people who work in our National Health Service.

Thank you one and all.

Dolce far niente

Literally 'sweet doing nothing'.  For Italians - and I suspect they are the only people who have perfected this art and it, as much as the Mediterranean diet, may have a lot to do with their longevity.  

Today is a day - or rather today is a date - that will always be etched in my mind. A day I decided that I was going to indulge in dolce far niente.  Andrew (Andy), our elder child, died on this day 11 years ago. A very dear friend's father died on this day 10 years ago. Gaz, deciding to try and ameliorate the bad connotations of the day, got engaged on this day 4 years ago. And today we are, yet again, listening to the horrendous effects of terrorism at home. 

Today is also the anniversary of my birth: the 73rd to be precise.

I shall be out to dinner at friends'.  

This coming week I am determined to return to Blogland. I'll see you there.

[Written yesterday, 4 June but posted today]

Another Birthday

Today is the anniversary of my birth. I've always thought the term birthday rather odd because one only has one: the day of one's birth. Anyway by common usage today is my Birthday. I rarely celebrate my birthday. In fact I've never given birthdays the importance that many people obviously feel they are due. Somehow, though, I had a feeling a few weeks ago that this birthday was going to be a bit different: it was going to be a Good Day.

It has been. It started yesterday with a meal out at Digby Chick with my son Gaz, his wife and her parents. It was a very special evening.

Today the sun has shone and despite the wind still being from the North it was not so cold that I haven't been able to spend three hours in the garden during the day. My knee isn't complaining either.

I've had visits and phone calls and messages and cards and presents and I don't know whether I've just been more sensitive to it but I actually feel I'm having a birthday in a way that I haven't for as long as I can remember: well my 60th actually when very dear friends organised a huge party.

So I'm writing this whilst waiting for a lift to Pat and Dave's for dinner where I know that I will have a lovely, relaxing evening with good company, good food and good wine. What more could a man want?

My birthday is also the anniversary of the death of our son Andrew. This year is the tenth anniversary. It is also the anniversary of the death of a very dear friend's father.  

Our son Gaz proposed to his, now, wife Carol on this day too.

So today is a day of special memories and reflections and of mixed emotions and despite that it is still a Good Day.

I will do a more reflective post tomorrow but for now I shall sit in the sun-drenched conservatory and pour myself a G and T (Thank you Gaz and Carol) :

Isle of Harris Gin

On What Day Were You Born?

A recent post by Red talked about the day on which he was born. Many of us know, and many of us don't know, the day of our birth. I was born two days before D-Day (which was Tuesday 6 June 1944) so it's easy for me to remember that I was born on a Sunday.

If you don't know the day on which you were born the you can find out on this website.

Whilst thinking about that the following ditty came to mind:

Monday's child is fair of face,

Tuesday's child is full of grace,

Wednesday's child is full of woe,

Thursday's child has far to go,

Friday's child is loving and giving,

Saturday's child works hard for a living,

But the child who is born on the Sabbath day

Is fair and wise and good in every way.

Often the Friday and Saturday lines are switched so it's hardly a reliable indicator of character.

I wonder how many of us think that we conform to the rhyme (and how many of us are prepared to say so?).

I would like to think that I'm fair (minded) but wise and good would really be pushing things a bit far.

A Cheeky Card

A few years ago - I'm not sure how many to be honest - a very young lady (probably aged about 14 or 15), sent me a Birthday Card. She was, and still is, the daughter of Friend Who Knows Too Much and the card was sent with, I learned at the weekend, her Mother's blessing.

I loved the card so much that it's been on my bookcase ever since. Caroline visited at the weekend when I was home on Lewis and it prompted me to put the memory on my blog and share it with you.

A Pirate Parrot

Some people give sensible presents. Some don't. Some people receive sensible presnts. Some don't. I received a parrot (amongst, it has to be said, other things) for my Birthday. What does that tell you about me? What does it tell you about him?

He (well he's a he when I talk to him) repeats (twice) everything that you say to him. He opens the door twice again when it is opened. He mimics the wind in the porch (twice). Fortunately he has an off switch. Now if people were like that.....

Someone Who Knows Me

Yep. There was a time when I laid wine down. Now I just down it.
(The card is one of a super range by paperlink.co.uk)

My Kind of Cooking

Wendy and Martin and the children know exactly what sort of cooking I do! My birthday pressie!!

In Reflective Mood

You'll forgive me if I'm a tad reflective today. This is the second anniversary of Andrew's death. It's also my Birthday. It started out being a very emotional day for me. It actually turned out to be a remarkably ordinary sort of a day. It was bright and sunny and I think that it might have been the warmest day of the year so far as well: certainly my two lots of washing dried very quickly. CJ and I went into Town and then pottered around the garden. Pat and Dave called in this afternoon and Carol and Iain called this evening. Yes, it was a perfectly ordinary sort of a day. Just the sort of day I like. In fact its ordinariness was a considerable comfort.

I was also very moved by the number of calls, cards and presents I received. There will be more about these anon.

To emphasise the ordinariness of the day I have chosen to show you photographs which I took today of very ordinary things:

Bombs away

Dive! Dive! Dive!

Beady eye

Big mouth

Large White on small flower

Again