My birthday! Happy birthday to me!
I’m one of the few people who can truly say is British since my Mum was Welsh, my Dad was a Scot and I was born in England on St Patrick’s day which of course was on Monday of last week.
We do birthday’s in a big way in our family so of course, in true Boofuls Towers stye, the celebrations started early with a party last Staurday for close family and friends. Funnily enough, it’s never crossed my mind to have a St Patrick’s themed party.
Instead we had a pirate themed party to get us in the mood for May’s pirate festival in Brixham. Aaaaaaar. The pirates’ provenance was a bit mixed with sea shanties from Cornwall, (miserable dirges they were, they lasted about two minutes before I put something more cheery on), Caribbean inspired food, cake, costumes and drinks along with a few eye patches, swords and hats and a lot of “Aaaaaarrrrrrr, ye scurvy dog” completed the theme.
One day we might put on a sophisticated soiree and surprise everyone. Nah, only kidding!
Sunday was a recovery day for most of the party goers. Me? I was annoyingly chipper having spent most of the previous evening on soft drinks. Boofuls and I went out to get some new curtains and rugs to give the house a bit of a lift for spring.
Monday. The big day! The day started with Boofuls bringing me a cup of coffee in bed and Douggie the doggie jumping on the bed and giving me a big sloppy kiss. Two minutes later I was holding his head ( Douggie’s not Boofuls’) over the waste bin to catch his vomit and prevent it going all over my brand new cream coloured bedroom carpet. I don’t think the vomit was anything to do with the big sloppy kiss he gave me. I hope not, anyway.
Next up was lots of pressies and brekkie at at the new eating and drinking emporium in town with my bestie. Full English breakfast? Don’t mind if I do! WE were absolutely gobsmacked to see people drinking actual achohol at 10.00 a.m. The venue was split into two definite parts. One part being the ladies who meet for coffee and men who meet for beer – and never the twain shall mix. We all stayed at our own end of the pub and looked across disdainfully at the other side.
Monday night, Boofuls went out to his club and I met some clients at work. Oh well, can’t have everything.
On Tuesday I went with Douggie the doggie to a choreography session at our club. We are doing an exhibition for a local-ish charity soon and the club has been asked to do something special, so we’re doing formation dancing for dogs. Cool!
Wednesday. Oh Wednesday. What a grim start to the day. The light at the end of the tunnel turned out to be the taxman’s torch. Sigh. A nice tax demand took the edge of my celebrations but not for long.
On Wednesday afternoon I went to see a medium. Whether you believe in it all or not, I do. Fervently. Difficult not to when if you have to put a title onto yourself that title would be ‘spiritualist’.
I’m not going to share anything that was said there – yet. I’m saving it for a big announcement to come soon (ooooooooh, exciting!!). All I will say is: Bloody hell, has she been stalking us and bugging our phones? This woman is gooood.
One of my birthday gifts from Boofuls was tickets to see Vincent Simone and Flavia Cacace in Dance ’till Dawn in Manchester. Funny, entertaining, amazing dancing, obviously. It was fabulous. Go and see it immediately! What? I now you’re at the other side of the world. Don’t make excuses, go and see it. It’s worth it!
Thursday was a recovery day.
Friday was the day I’ve been waiting for. Lashes and I went to a spa for the day. It was a Christmas pressie from Boofuls and I’ve been saving it. What a fantastic day. I can cope with massages, facials, long, leisurely lunches and a bass or two of wine. What a fantastic day we had. Made even better by the fact that Boofuls dropped us off and picked us up o there was no driving involved. He and Len picked us up at the appointed time and then they took us to The Clog and Billycock for dinner.
What’s theClog and Billycock?
It’s a restaurant, not too far away from here that is owned by the well known chef Nigel Haworth. I’ve been wanting to go for some time, so we did.
You must go there, immediately. You can do it when you come to see Dance ’till Dawn. With it’s deceptively simple menu and homely surroundings its a lovely place to spend and evening. I thought it would be a bit pretentious, I expected to see beluga caviar served on a sturgeon’s fin nestling on a swan’s left ear but it was exactly the opposite. Lovely simple, tasty and wholesome food. Good grief. I was so full I could hardly move.
You know the food is good when you are stuffed to the gunnels but when they ask if you want a dessert you say yes and eat every last bit of it. Last time I was that full was the ‘nine puddings’ incident in Hong Kong. I’ll tell you about that another day. Here are a couple of photos for you. One of my Lancashire hotpot and one of my dessert, a lovely, light lemon possett.
They’re alright these birthdays. Weeks like this I can deal with. Happy birthday. It certainly was. Thanks to everyone who made it all happen. Now then. Where are my elasticated trousers?