A Practically Perfect Day

Sunday was my birthday. I turned 64 (Bill says yes he will). Brits (or perhaps it's just Bill) don't seem to treat birthdays with quite the enthusiasm that I grew up with. So to avoid being disappointed I gave Bill very specific instructions, along with all the information he needed to carry them out. He was very good and did as asked, even coming up with a surprise. 

The things I said I wanted were:

1. Flowers in pink, white, purple or blue, no yellow, orange or red (from Pansy's Florist in North Shields). An enormous bouquet was delivered on Saturday. They were parked in water at the time and then on Sunday I enjoyed trimming and arranging them in a large blue jug, a souvenir of a day trip to Juarez, Mexico back in the 1980s.

2. Two books: The Cut Flower Patch, by Louise Curley and The Late Scholar, by Jill Paton Walsh (from Waterstones). The former was a whim, but a good whim as the book is delicious. The latter turned out to be a re-read, but one from so long ago that it was only faintly familiar and I'd no clue about the plot. Bill was happy to buy this as he is also a fan of this author's Lord Peter Wimsey books.

I've been re-arranging my fabrics to improve access (and because they all came tumbling down a couple of weeks ago when I pulled out the wrong piece of the stack). This has allowed me to set aside any patchwork cotton fabric I come across, all of it given to me as I'd never pay that much for fabric! I've slowly zigzagged the raw edges and put them through the wash in preparation for making masks. Bill does most of the ironing around here, so he's had the pleasure of ironing all these colourful prints. He cleverly used one to wrap my two books.

We pottered around with plants for a while in the morning and then as the sun came around to the front of the house I put on shorts and sat in the nearly private front garden while Bill went out for a long walk. He's been doing some sort of challenge set up by the Long Distance Walkers Association; he did 220 miles in May. I put up my feet, read my Paton Walsh book and sipped a gin and tonic in the sun. Bill surprised me when he came home, handing me a small tub of ice cream from the Bistro du Parc, a local cafe that has supplied us with milk, cake, wine, beer and the occasional sandwich or loaf of break - and now ice cream. I didn't ask for a birthday cake, as it's a lot of bother for something I don't like that much, but ice cream is always welcome!

3. Steak for dinner (from Nicholson's butchers in Whitley Bay). We have steak perhaps once or twice a year, so it is a very special treat. Since I grew up in cattle country with a father who loved a nice rare steak, I have particular views about how steaks should taste. For probably the first 20 years I lived in Britain I was always disappointed in any steaks I bought, no matter how carefully they were cooked. I saved trips to Spain or to the Canary Islands or the occasional Venezuelan restaurant I found in London to order steaks that were well worth the price. Then we found an Italian restaurant in Jesmond , Avanti, that knew about steaks and they told me where to buy aged steaks in Gateshead, but I've forgotten the name of the place. It was ridiculously expensive anyhow, just as cheap to eat out instead. We've never shopped at Nicholson's but their steaks were wonderful, even without the benefit of steak tenderiser. We also had a vegetable salad and a baked potato with butter to go with the rather large and very tender, medium rare steaks, all accompanied by red wine.

After dinner we watched my birthday present from Vivien, the Downton Abbey film. Bill pretended he wasn't that fussed about seeing it, but given that he practically binged on the six series once I made him watch the first one, I paid him no attention. (And all our other television viewing is dictated by his rather narrow tastes, I this was another small treat for me). We did enjoy seeing it, but it seemed to all move very quickly and it felt as though the camera was much further away than usual. This meant not getting the pleasure from seeing the clothes as much. I told Vivien that I am guessing Fellowes had actually written another series but then just crammed it all into the one film. 

On Saturday evening, getting ready to watch some old Lewis detective programme on telly, I happened to look out the bedroom window to see a man walking past on the opposite side of the road. He was walking slowly and seemed rather meditative and I mentally sent him happy thoughts in case he was sad. Then all the sudden my friend Pat popped into view as she was crossing from in front of my house over to the man I suddenly realised was her husband, Stephen. I knocked on the window and she turned around so I was able to wave and throw kisses, which she returned. I went downstairs to tell Bill and spotted that she'd put a birthday card through my door. 

So all in all I had a wonderful birthday - even the weather cooperated. I had loads of birthday wishes from friends and family and I spent the day doing only things that I love. I can't actually think of any birthday that I've enjoyed more, in spite of - or perhaps because of? - the current lockdown restrictions. 

I think knowing what I do really enjoy is useful knowledge, along with a habit of having relatively modest desires. I hope your birthdays in future are wonderful too!