Today is your birthday. The anniversary of the last day I saw you as you were – vibrant, funny, fierce.
I’m trying to remember the happy times, the laughs, the scandals, the debates.
But today those memories are bittersweet.
I wish you were here to see what we’re up and to tell us off for not doing it properly.
Life isn’t like that though. We can never recapture a moment, and there’s no point in moving forward with regrets of any kind.
So today I will celebrate your life, I will raise a glass tonight and remember you with love.
Goodbye, my friend, goodbye.
Well, I made it back up to gale-force Scotland and back again in one piece. My brother, his wife and their two boys stopped off for a week at my parents en route from Abu Dhabi to Norway for a snowy sled-filled Christmas.
It was magical spending time with everyone, although Mr ShoeThatAlwaysFits missed out on the fun due to work commitments. Christmas brings out the child in all of us – me and my brother spent a frantic 20 minutes trying to beat each other at iPad table ice hockey (I won) and a few other games (again, I won). My big brother then raided the attic and returned triumphant with his toy cars and all of his space lego (circa 1980) – I was delighted as finally, 30 years later, I would finally be allowed to play with it. Mum told me that he used to build forts between me and his collection of lego to keep me and my little sticky fingers off of his precious toys. And I can’t say that I was disappointed to watch Christmas DVDs meant for the kids – who knew that Polar Express was so charming?
I had a splendid couple of days getting jumped on, shot, and brainified. It was fab – even if I was mostly over-fed, hungover and sleep-deprived.
So here’s to a quieter Christmas with me and the Mr, once I leave the office that is.
Last week ended reasonably calmly after all – I even managed to fit in three consecutive workouts – an absolute first. Although it did mean I felt every one of my 41 years by Friday night. How I miss the energy of my misspent youth!
Yesterday I finally managed to go to my long awaited hair appointment where my lovely hairdresser transformed me as always into an improved version of me – if somewhat neater than usual – and with some flame red attitude. Less librarian, more Florence and The Machine.
I’ve returned the inappropriately youthful clothing and have a lovely pair of boots on order instead – what can I say, you can never have too many pairs of boots – especially ones you could walk a few miles in.
I’m also looking forward to a visit from my parents who are south of the border from Wednesday through Saturday. Our family is scattered around quite a bit so it’s lovely to spend time together however infrequent it is. Let’s hope I can keep up with them – they could put an Olympic Athlete to shame at times.
And so I’m entering into next week full of my usual optimism and devil may care attitude. Wonder if I’ll make it to 10am Monday with that optimism intact?
This has been a truly unproductive week on a personal front. I have only managed to make one post since last weekend and I’ve only completed a couple of workouts.
Bugger – that’s a pretty epic fail on all levels. There’s been combination of factors (isn’t there always) that stops you achieving what you set out to do.
A film that I really wanted to see, an unexpectedly late night at work, a friend’s birthday drinks, a bout of insomnia, and a vomit-inducing virus are this week’s excuses all rolled into one. I got my cardio levels up enough on Friday morning whilst being chased by a bee – but otherwise, it’s been a lazy week all round.
So I’m half way through this weekend with a grand master plan about working off the birthday cake and trying to make everything I want to achieve, fit into my life. Will I succeed, who knows, but I’m going to have a damn good try. Now, off to the treadmill for a caffeine-charged workout.
I love birthdays – I mean it. They’re great – as long as it’s not my birthday.
Birthdays are sacred, special days that should be celebrated in abundance. There should be balloons, cake, music and a bit of mayhem thrown in for good measure. And singing. Lots of singing.
I work with a wide range of people – recently, we’ve had birthdays for young souls just turning 22 and older souls turning 40. We celebrate each of them in the same way, cake, card, present and the happy birthday song. The young ones love it, us older ones would rather pretend it wasn’t happening – and like the proverbial smear test, you can’t believe it’s that time again already.
But birthdays are special and they should be celebrated with a ready smile and an open heart. Bring on the cake. And the dancing – in for a penny, in for a pound.