40
Birthday celebrations started last Thursday. I invited my teammates for some drinks after work since it was my night out. Most of Engineering turned up. I'd taken Friday off for good measure. We started with a pitcher of Pimm's (a traditional English summer drink of Pimm's, a sweet syrupy liqeuer, mixed with selzer water and mint and fruit bits including orange, lemon, apple, raspberry, blackberry, blueberry) at The Eagle; I thought we might visit a few other nearby pubs for a bit of a crawl, but we were happy enough and just stayed there.
I'd arranged to spend the night with some friends in Hackney. I was expecting to sleep in and be nursing a monster hangover - is it not appropriate that the first day of one's forties be one of pain and regret? - but neither happened. Instead I woke up around 6.30 and lounged for a while.
After having coffee with my host, I set out for a free day in London. After some breakfast, I tubed my way to South Kensington for one more visit to the Science Museum. Then it was off to Soho and some shopping on Regent and Oxford streets, then on an early afternoon train home.
When I picked Sarah up from her after school club, she was reminding everyone that not only was it my birthday, but that I was forty and really old. So I made her help me cross the streets on the way home.
When Margo came home, Sarah couldn't wait to share presents: Belgian chocolates, cufflinks, and: a comedy sketch that Sarah and Margo wrote and practised, containing dozens of age jokes mostly stolen from Sarah's book of silly jokes (see related post).
We didn't have a real dinner (we usually just snack on Friday evenings) but afterwards there was a birthday cake decorated with dead salmon, because I am always joking that, like the salmon, I have swum upstream, procreated, and now my life's purpose is over, and only death awaits.
Saturday morning I met Sarah and Margo at her swim class. Afterwards we had some lunch (actually, they had lunch - I was fasting for the special dinner) and then went to see Wall-E. Margo said the little robot that had to keep cleaning up Wall-E's dirty tracks reminded her of me.
Then home for naps and ... the birthday meal I've been waiting for.
We started with an appetizer: a torte with artichokes, tomatoes and feta cheese, served with a small bottle of champagne. I also opened a 1999 Brunello di Montalcino that I'd been waiting weeks to enjoy. We also had fresh strawberries.
The main course was chicken breast, stuffed with mushroom and ricotta, wrapped in parma ham, served with asparagus grilled in olive oil and sea salt. For dessert we had creme pastries with fresh blackberries and raspberries, and I had a bit of cognac.
And the celebrations aren't completely over. Saturday I'll be joining some friends in a pub (or two) in Ipswich.
I'd arranged to spend the night with some friends in Hackney. I was expecting to sleep in and be nursing a monster hangover - is it not appropriate that the first day of one's forties be one of pain and regret? - but neither happened. Instead I woke up around 6.30 and lounged for a while.
After having coffee with my host, I set out for a free day in London. After some breakfast, I tubed my way to South Kensington for one more visit to the Science Museum. Then it was off to Soho and some shopping on Regent and Oxford streets, then on an early afternoon train home.
When I picked Sarah up from her after school club, she was reminding everyone that not only was it my birthday, but that I was forty and really old. So I made her help me cross the streets on the way home.
When Margo came home, Sarah couldn't wait to share presents: Belgian chocolates, cufflinks, and: a comedy sketch that Sarah and Margo wrote and practised, containing dozens of age jokes mostly stolen from Sarah's book of silly jokes (see related post).
We didn't have a real dinner (we usually just snack on Friday evenings) but afterwards there was a birthday cake decorated with dead salmon, because I am always joking that, like the salmon, I have swum upstream, procreated, and now my life's purpose is over, and only death awaits.
Saturday morning I met Sarah and Margo at her swim class. Afterwards we had some lunch (actually, they had lunch - I was fasting for the special dinner) and then went to see Wall-E. Margo said the little robot that had to keep cleaning up Wall-E's dirty tracks reminded her of me.
Then home for naps and ... the birthday meal I've been waiting for.
We started with an appetizer: a torte with artichokes, tomatoes and feta cheese, served with a small bottle of champagne. I also opened a 1999 Brunello di Montalcino that I'd been waiting weeks to enjoy. We also had fresh strawberries.
The main course was chicken breast, stuffed with mushroom and ricotta, wrapped in parma ham, served with asparagus grilled in olive oil and sea salt. For dessert we had creme pastries with fresh blackberries and raspberries, and I had a bit of cognac.
And the celebrations aren't completely over. Saturday I'll be joining some friends in a pub (or two) in Ipswich.
posted by Michael Nelson at 11:20 am
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