Strutting My Way to One Rather Delightful Birthday.

Looking back on March 28, 2011, I hardly thought that one year later, I’d still be here, typing away. I never thought that writing about the emptiness that fills my week could be sustained for this long. Yes, I don’t have millions of visitors a month, a hundred followers and all kinds of glowing references on all the big sites: but I don’t care for one second. Every visitor and follower means as much to me as if I had all that aforementioned glory. But I’m not going to waste this post in a shambolic Berry-esque speech. You already know that I think you guys are awesome, although I will apologize for not sharing the birthday sponge cake. I am sorry, but I couldn’t help myself. You put a cake in front of an Italian and you can say goodbye to your desert. I didn’t think candles would taste that nice. Yes, my blog hit that special milestone of one year old a few days ago, but I’m not going to make much of a fuss. I’m going to carry on with my usual dribble.

So there I was, a cuppa tea and my sausage roll in my hand in the kitchen. I love my sausage rolls. Then I hear a noise. A loud bang and then faint laughter. I put my tea down and, rather belatedly, my beloved sausage roll. I gaze out of the window to the source of the noise to find dad has sat in his garden lounger and it’s collapsed. I run to the back door and there is the single funniest thing I have ever seen in my life. There’s dad, crunched up on the patio with bits of the garden lounger enveloping him in an utterly hilarious mangled mess. He’s laughing but he literally cannot move because he’s stuck and I’m pretty useless because I’ve got a stomach crap from laughing so much whilst in tears on the floor. Dad laughs ‘help’. I do the right thing. I tell him to wait a minute while I go and beckon mum with the words ‘you’ve got to come and see this’. I eventually recovered but then mum sees dad and now she’s crippled with laughter on the floor. I, meanwhile, have turned away to compose myself, but then I turn back around and then I burst into laughter again. We helped him up and he was fine. I guess we’re all accident-prone in this house.

The main focus of the week has been the insane temperatures. It hit the 20s, but strangely, they’re not calling 20 degrees for seven days a week in early spring a heatwave. Even though the weather forecasters admitted to it being 10 degrees above average. It was this hot last year. And the year before. In fact, this is rather normal. Why isn’t this average? How many years of one particular temperature do we have to have before it becomes average? There must come a point when meteorologists say ‘this is getting ridiculous – it’s been this hot for years, let’s make this the new average’.

But then again, it won’t be as special. Brings out the best in the English, warm weather. You see people standing or sitting awkwardly on the streets because they have an urge to get outside and enjoy the sun. But they’re not used to it so they just go outside to stand or sit awkwardly on the street thinking ‘it’s hot- I have to do something, but what?’ Always fun to see, that.

I’m not a fan of heat. I prefer cold. It’s refreshing. A fine snowflake sweeping across one’s brow. Lovely. But no. Heat is here again. I’m sweaty, out of breath and I stink. And then there’s the heat. I’m not good with heat. A few years ago, I was outside enjoying the sun but didn’t put any sunscreen on. That’s not a good idea if your skin is as pale as Charlie Sheen’s morality. Or in general, I must stress.

At least this weather has enabled me to do the thing I love to do the most: strut. Right down the high street. You see, I hurt my knee a while back and now I walk with a swagger. That, coupled with my bootcut jeans, open jacket and long hair flapping about in the gentle breeze blowing in from the North Sea, made me look rather dashing. Or a complete idiot. I’m not sure which, but it was the last day of the heat and I was feeling spunky. Always wanted to use that word. Hallelujah.

So there it was, folks. The Indelible Life of Me’s One Year Anniversary Birthday Post Bonanza Special Thingamajig. I really do want to thank every visitor over the last year. I know I say it all the time, but I really never thought I’d hit 10 visitors let alone 1,000+. It means an awful lot me. Thank you all so very, very much. Excuse, me I think I have something in my eye…

‘The secret to staying young is to live honestly, eat slowly and lie about your age’, said the late, great comedienne, film, television, stage and radio actress, model, film and television executive, Lucille Ball.

Peace Out :|:


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