Well, that's another year over with, yet another year closer to the next existence - wherever or whatever that may be, if at all!
I get the feeling that maybe a belief in reincarnation would indicate that I'd return as something fitting to this blog - like a randy carrot, or a potato that looks like the Virgin Mary.
Birthdays are a PITA if you allow them to bug you. If no-one sends a card (despite the fact that you said you wanted no cards this year), you feel slighted; if they all ignore your pleas to help save the planet by reducing the amount of card and envelopes consumed, you feel as if they consider your entreaties as inconsequential. It's a lose-lose situation, really.
Despite the fact that I don't encourage cards, and don't actively discourage them either, I've had two real card ones this year (my mother and her next-door neighbour) and two electronic ones - one from my daughter (an emailed Powerpoint card) and one from Classic FM! My son, whose birthday was yesterday, tends to forget mine, as I almost forgot his. I did send him a txt msg and left a message on his mobile - neither have been answered, so he's obviously nursing a hangover - or something.
Later - I take it all back; got an SMS from him later this morning - make sme come over all warm and comfortable.
See what I mean about letting it get to you? It doesn't really bother me either way, but I gave up on birthdays on or around my 40th (which was sometime ago).
The picture? Part of the 'Ales Stones' an alleged burial place for a group of Vikings - see Land of the Swede II.
