Sixty years ago. The hairstyle is still the same.
We had to get up early this morning as P has arranged to meet a friend for an early run over the hills.
There were two birthday cards on the kitchen table, one from my sister and one from P. His was a "sort of" funny one about a husband standing at a bar with a mate joking about his wife buying clothes. I had quite hoped that there may have been a birthday present, but no such luck.
It doesn't feel like a special kind of day at all.
I must stop feeling sorry for myself.
We have six friends coming over for supper this evening so that will cheer me up.
This will be me later on in the kitchen, preparing supper...