How does she do it?

I've been a royal pain in the bum leading up to my birthday last week. I've had too much time to think to be honest, I've been thinking too much about life and what's important. I've spent time looking out of windows wishing to live, not wishing for a new phone or a bigger better faster thingymebob.

So when asked what I'd like for my birthday I said nothing, as in I don't want anything rather than not saying anything! The thing that I couldn't see in my blinkered way was that Wendy and the girls and others around me wanted to celebrate my birthday and that the giving was as much for them as it was for me.

The biggest thing for me was that I made it, at times I was unsure as to whether I'd get to my 39th year. I guess it was a little touch and go at times, but hey I'm here and I have no plans to go anywhere soon.

I had started to suggest things to Wendy but I still wasn't being overly helpful. But she came up with the one thing I didn't know I wanted but I really did! Along with a cookery book and a box set of dvd's, which I'd forgotten I wanted, Wendy got me a lovely ceramic mixing bowl. I have watched cookery programs and yearned for a nice ceramic bowl in which to make bread. Now I had the bowl and the book so Saturday morning I made my first loaf of soda bread, it was so nice mixing and feeling the dough in between my fingers. The really basic action of mixing together simple ingredients and then hoping and watching as the dough turned from something so soft and plain to a lovely looking loaf. It tasted ok too, even if I do say so myself.

Crusty and tasty

Friday had been a lovely day with gifts and laughter and the return of Charlie, on a flying visit from New Zealand. Saturday morning started with wonderful pancakes, bacon and maple syrup. Breakfast in bed, with Wendy and the girls and damn good food how can I not wake with a smile.

After a fairly lazy morning we had a lovely afternoon with a superb afternoon tea which Wend had prepared. Mark and Jill brought Charlie down and mum and dad called as they were taking us to Eyam for the fireworks. It was a lovely afternoon spoiled by me having a panic attack and being rude to Wend. We were half way to Eyam and all of a sudden I couldn't think where I'd put the tickets, the last time I could remember seeing them was when I was putting my shoes on and Wendy had moved them all of 2 inches from where I put them. This in my mind had been enough to stop me picking the darn things up and I said as much. It wasn't Wendy's fault the tickets hadn't been moved out of my eyesight and the embarrassing and worrying thing was I'd picked them up and put them in the pocket on the back of the car seat! It served to show me how my temper is still so close to the surface and that although my fatigue levels are miles better than they have been it still has a bearing on my patience.