It’s been a busy week this past week, as my birthday was amongst it. And as I get older, the longer I like to celebrate my special day. After all, it is my own personal day, one where I can get away with more than normal.
This year I was lucky enough to do a special something each day of the week surrounding my day. It wasn’t possible for it to be a full day each day, but then I discovered, it made my activities all the more memorable and appreciated.
One day was a trip to my favourite charity shop, where I allowed myself the purchase of one zany thing. And I found it in a 1940s deck chair, complete with fold out foot rest. It will reside at the foot of our garden,in the shade, ready for summer moments of relaxation.
A trip out to an Indian restaurant in the evening, which seems somehow decadent and truly exotic when living in France. And it was made doubly special as it was an unknowing gift from my parents. Money they sent treated us, and it was lovely to be able to thank them not just for their gift, but for what it actually bought. Delicious all around.
Another day was a day trip to Paris. Nothing planned, just wandering the streets, looking in shop windows, watching people and sitting in the odd café. Then a meet up with friends and a treat of lunch in a bistro. Paris in the spring time is truly lovely.
My actual birthday was a duvet day, or rather a morning, spent reading in bed with a lovely pot of coffee to hand and a very good book. Blissful to stop the world for a moment and just be.
Joyeux anniversaire à moi.