The birdies in my hedgerows are twittering....

As readers of heatherdownunder will know, the idea of having a child whose birthday threatened to overshadow my own was not something I received with the equanimity one expects of a proper caring put-other's-first mother. However at the time I had not grasped the concept of "birthday week". 

It is actually slightly longer than a week - more like 10 days, but there is more or less one every 2 days with Rosie, me, my mum, John (uncle flying) and Richard following hot on each other's heels.  The result was ten days of complete entertainment.  A blast in fact.  The fact that there was a couple of specials in their this year (65 and 40) was the sherbert on the top, but I'm sure between us we can always ensure there is one of those...

It started with the "small family and friends party" which got out of hand and ended up being a bit of a do, in a pub, for 35 or so. It was a really happy occasion featuring large numbered balloons, iggle piggle, a trolleyed pensioner and lots of lovely people.  My birthday evening was our second thwarted open mic session (they heard we were coming and obviously closed the joint), but still involved ritual humiliation (at the hands of the staff of Galllipoli on upper street).

Beyond fabulous was an impromptu Friday night out with the other Heather and Elise, wedged between the birthday parties, at a club dedicated to the 1940s - where everyone was dressed in the full regalia and the majority could lindy hop too.  I gasped when I saw them - it truly felt like going back in time. The band played some of my all time favourite French songs and I was grinning from ear to ear when I rolled in at 2am.  By the time we got to John's 40th in BoA I was significantly worse for wear and thought I would take weeks to recover..

However sunshine and birds twittering in the mornings, good sleep and good food plus a new found penchant for getting my garden into glorious shape has meant that I have bounced back pretty quickly.  Almost a shame to go to work these days.  Rosie and I would much rather sit on our bottoms in the paddling pool (hers is bare - shh call child protection)....

9.5.08 22:15