24 hours

Yesterday was my birthday….

The Saint booked at table at Ananda on Saturday night.

Fabulous tapas (the photos are shocking as we were using TS’s blackberry), great atmosphere and we would definitely go again.

My birthday celebrations got of to a great start with me getting velly, velly drunk.

Next morning, mouth like the bottom of a budgie cage, and extremely hungover, I was contemplating my demise when I could hear the excited squeals of my boys.

I rallied for the gift opening.

Please note the massive pile of Cherry Ripes care of Cheeky Monkey and the huge sparkly note book from Boy Wonder.

Look at the Kenwood Mixer! BW’s idea! Very spoilt.

I faded pretty soon after this, so TS suggested breakfast out.

We headed to my favourite place to have brekkie which overlooks my favourite beach.


My beautiful boys made it really special.

We rounded off the day with a trip to the drive-in cinema in Dandenong.

So lovely to be snuggled and cosy in the back of the car watching a movie (Madagascar 3 in case you wanted to know).

Happy Birthday? Definitely.


Birthday Girl.

I am the one on the left.

Today is my birthday. I am 21*

The picture above is just a small insight into my traumatic childhood. Yes the monkey is real.

Anyway, birthday, shmirthday. It’s just another day really, isn’t it?

Except if you have two over-excited boys who are bursting to tell you what they’ve got you:

“I’ll give you a clue”, says Cheeky Boy “It’s not Lego”.

Boy Wonder is a more direct (Aspie that he is) “Um, do you like sparkly books that you can write all your notes in?”

Um, I’d better say yes to that one, eh?

The Saint, bless him, bought me a ticket for Pro Blogger Training Event in Melbourne next month. VERY EXCITING!

So that’s my gifts out of the way.

How am I feeling about being 21*?

Birthdays have scared me more as I have got older. (Me no like ageing).

Two months ago I would have told you I was terrified about being 21*, but recently those feelings have changed.

For the first time, in a long time I am excited about life and what is coming next.

So Cheers! and remember to have a gin for me tonight!


How do you feel about your birthday? Like ’em or loathe ’em?

Happy Birthday, B.

B holding The Saint at 6 weeks

B was definitely NOT one of those grey-haired grannies who play bingo and wear sensible shoes.

She was all glitz and glamour.

Her hair was always in place. Full make-up worn , every day. We went on holiday with her to Florida once and I remember even on the beach she whipped out an Estee Lauder lipstick and lovingly re-applied it.

She wore beautiful, expensive, perfume. She worked in fashion and her clothes were always elegant. She loved shoes, handbags and diamonds.

Her cooking was cordon bleu and she cleaned like a pro – often vacuuming twice a day and even polishing the pipes on her boiler!

Best of all she loved a drink. Gin mainly. We used to have such a laugh.

When the boys arrived she really came into her own.

Granny B and her boys

She was BEST Granny EVER!

For Christmas and birthdays she gave them things like fart machines, whoopie cushions and pooing reindeer (chocolate poo!).

When we visited, goodies would constantly appear from her “treats cupboard”, in spite of my protests that they’d had enough sugar/chocolate/sweets and were already pinging off the walls.

“Oh let me spoil them a little” she would laugh.

They ran riot in her house, with her rolling around on the floor with them. The Saint and I used to watch through our fingers, fearing for the ornaments.

Right up until she got sick she still went on our trampoline with them. I loved watching the three of them laughing hysterically, with her telling them not to bounce to hard or “I might wee myself”!

My boys adored her and she adored them.

Most importantly, she was the only grandparent to acknowledge Boy Wonder’s diagnosis and the impact it had on The Saint and I. She may not have understood everything, but I appreciated the thought behind each newspaper clipping or book recommendation she sent me.

You would never know it, but B had a hard life, full of disappointment and grief. Her grace and dignity during those horrendous times was inspiring.

I think of her often. Lippy on, hair done, head held high. I can see her smiling and saying to me “You’ve just got to “KBO* haven’t you?”

Happy Birthday, B. We love you.

*KBO- Keep Buggering On (a maxim from Churchill)