Yesterday was my birthday. Anyone who asked was told I’m still working on perfecting 21.
I was actually unwell, a nice ol’ mixture of back/leg pain, accidentally drinking caffeine and maybe a virus. It didn’t stop me enjoying a white chocolate and raspberry muffin, shopping for a while with my ma, and heading out for KidsZone and The Hub in the evening.
There was a serious amount of love floating around the Emmanuel building. Our young people brought cakes, chocolate, cards and gifts. The cakes were like a modern day ‘5 loves and two fish’ – people sniffed them out from all over the building and filed in and out to get a slice and at the end of the night there was still half left of each. A miracle I tell ya.
Had it been anyone else’s birthday I would have filled the post with pictures. But it was mine and so none were taken. I keep trying to refresh my mental photos because I don’t want to lose them – the kids singing happy birthday, a stolen flower (from one of the vases) tucked in my hair, the looks on the faces of those who handed over gifts and cards, a little girl handing over a ‘birthday medal’ she’d made me. Sigh.
I wouldn’t have wanted to have been anywhere else. People keep telling us how they appreciate te work we’re going with the kids and young people. It’s humbling because we kinda feel like frauds. The fact is it’s us that are grateful to be a part of something that is growing way past the efforts of a brummie boy and a mackem girl.
Gush gush gush and more gush.
So, 29. I need to sit down with a cup of tea and look at this list of mine. I’ve not thought about it for a while so I dont remember what I’ve done and not done. I might change it – some of it may not be as important to me as it was a year ago.
We were starting to make plans for a family holiday. We found one that was perfect and were ready to book it and send off for passports in the morning. But when morning came and we were honest with each other, neither of us felt at peace about financial cost. So the decision was made that we wouldn’t go. Uh, I hate being sensible.
29. I think I might just have turned into a grown up.