Thirty nine years ago today, I was born.
Twenty six years ago I went to the Brent Cross shopping centre for the first time and persuaded my mum to but me some trainers. Significant because from the age of thirteen my parents began to give us our whole child benefit as pocket money, but we then had to fund all our own clothes, shoes, trips, friends’ birthday gifts and so on. The idea was to teach us responsibility and budgeting. It was £7.15 a week! Riches! Until you’re 17, on the same income and having to fund ball dresses. My mum was persuaded to buy me the trainers on the logic that as I had been born at after 10pm, I wasn’t quite thirteen yet.
Twenty one years ago I spent the day at a cat show. Totally random. The one and only time I have ever been to a cat show.
Eighteen years ago, the weather was so warm, my cake melted. It was a chocolatey blob by the time it got eaten.
Seventeen years ago I didn’t talk to one person I had known for more than a week. I did, however, have my first ever conversation with Mr PC.
Fourteen years ago I watched an eclipse. I had an eclipse for my 25th birthday! Isn’t that brilliant?
Twelve years ago I had a nine day old baby. A couple of days before, I had heard the midwife talking to Mr PC when she thought I was out of earshot warning him not to dare forget my birthday. He didn’t.
Nine years ago my one year old spent my birthday barbecue crawling round under chairs finishing off all the abandoned drinks she could find.
Three years ago I planted a tree. It was a lovely Acer, which sadly we left when we moved house. I hope it’s still there. The new owners have definitely taken control of what was an unruly cottage garden when it was mine.
The question has already been asked – What shall I do for next year?