has been my birthday weekend. Big special birthday, sixty years old.
Guess this means I'm old now but being a glass half-full sort of
person, I like to think I'm still on the young side of old.
started with a children's party on Saturday. It had been a good
enough week weather-wise but Saturday brought downpours. Children
don't care about rain. They just need sausages, balloons, Haribo,
puppies, each other's company and bouncy castles. They got all that
plus Young Loveheart's three man catapult, a treasure hunt (got to
work for those party bags) and a lot of muddy puddles to jump in.
Next children's party I throw maybe I'll not bother with a bouncy
castle and just get Clint up with his digger and he can create lots
more muddy puddles which he can fill in afterwards. Clint loves
playing with his digger.
Watching the catapulters
Some of our guests
were dramas. The original bouncy castle people let us down. Bad Fred!
Fortunately we were able to get another one at an hour's notice. Good Mutley! And then Zoe's dog Gracie went missing. There were so many
children and so many dogs that no one noticed for more than an hour.
As I have mentioned many times before we live far too close to a busy
B road where far too many people drive far too fast. In fact when
Miss Mel and I were searching the verges we saw two cars racing each
other. Would that I could have made a citizen's arrest of the idiots.
There was a happy outcome for Gracie. She had got on the road, a
quarter of a mile down it, but she was picked up by a young couple
who immediately phoned the number on her collar disk. Unfortunately
it was Zoe's house phone so no one got the message at the time. The
young couple took charge of her until her owners raced home to see if
there were messages. These good people delivered her back to Cully.
Big sighs of relief from everyone.
next stage of the party was in the BT club in Ballymena. Music and
catering was all arranged so all we had to do was turn up. What can I
say? It was a great night, wonderful music, great food, marvellous
company. All the musicians were good friends, one was actually Bert
playing his first ever gig. He was very nervous but he did well. The
young brother did a few songs, Kerry Sister did a few more and Zoe
sang too. I was so proud of them all. There were a few missing faces,
some people on holiday, some not up to it, some, God forgive me, that
we forgot to invite. It was that thing where Nelly thought Bert had
asked them and Bert thought Nelly had.
– there wasn't a friend or sibling that didn't or couldn't make it
that I didn't miss. And I realised this thing again. I am a tremendously
fortunate woman. I have a good and loving family and Bert and I have
I spent with all the family at home. London Sister and Vancouver
Brother sorely missed. We all went to Cemetery Sunday at St Comgalls
in Antrim. I don't remember there being Cemetery Sundays when I was a
child. It is a cunning ruse by the Catholic Church to shame the
faithful and the faithless into keeping our ancestor's graves clean
and tidy. Being closer to faithless I prefer to be advised by Blind Lemon Jefferson. It was a lovely thing to do as it felt like
including Mammy and Daddy in the birthday celebrations. I also had
the opportunity to say hello to aunts, cousins and neighbours.
was my actual birthday, the day I turned 60 although still haven't
organised that bus pass! It was gardening day so had Martha, Evie and
their minders for supper. We had mince pie, beans and birthday cake.
In a three day period of fun, festivity and ancestor worship it had
to be a best bit when the girls sang, Happy Birthday dear Granny,
Happy Birthday to you.