My oldest friend just turned seventy. My youngest brother is not a kick in the arse of sixty, my oldest granddaughter has started grammar school, I'm down to three aunts, only one uncle and my toyboy husband is thinking of investing in new knees. Even my pets, pigs, dogs, cats and chickens are all ancient. Seems like Nelly is in the Autumn of her years.
But who cares! I've always loved Autumn, apart from it not lasting nearly long enough. Oops!
When I first met the Wee Manny, in Dublin, some time in the mid-seventies.
Happy 70th birthday, Robin. I never thought you'd see it.
And an account of a long-ago adventure in which the comments have the makings of a soap opera. Well worth a read.