salad days

I don’t know what it is with the Autumn, but there’s something in the air that means an astonishing number of Birthdays in May and June, I guess it’s the realisation of the cold winter months approaching that makes folk need to cuddle more? I’m not complaining, but so many people I know have birthdays this time of year, it’s hard to keep tabs on it all. Anyway – Happy Birthday if you’re a Summer Flower (or something).

I traveled down to Devon a few days ago to see an old friend I hadn’t seen for well over five years (I had been invited to her Birthday), and it was great to get out of the city and into the country for an evening – some quality peaceful downtime. Anyway, since I last saw here, she’s had two children – lovely boys, full of beans and she’s doing very well with them. However, it seemed so many other parents of my age came out of the woodwork that weekend and there were children everywhere. Now, I’m well aware that I’m ‘of that age’, but there’s nothing like a field full of little ‘uns to bring it home. Talking of bringing it home, I visited some other friends down the road that brought home their new baby a couple of weeks ago. I had thought that the switch between reckless, wide-eyed person and responsible ‘grown up’ adult was having a baby. I still think it’s true, but I’m beginning to wonder if that’s all such a bad thing, after all we’ve all got to take total responsibility for ourselves at some point and nothing makes you do that quite like producing some offspring. Maybe the Summer is making me broody.

If it’s not babies, loads of my friends have got engaged or have agreed on dates to tie the knot! I think it’s great, and indeed I get a bit misty eyed thinking of all the love in the world, wonder what it’d be like to have my own big celebration with a big cake, big drinks and big dresses (ahem), but that’s not the point – again it’s a wake up call that I’m not getting any younger and that it’s the norm now be going to friend’s weddings, having babies and finding oneself with a mortgage. Of course, it’s no great surprise, I just thought all these things would never happen to me, and now I’ve arrived, it’s not at all as horrific as imagined. It might actually be great fun.