Around the Sun

In just a few hours, I will be 50. Actually, I'm lying. Knowing the time it takes me to start and finish a blog, by time you read this I was probably 50 a few weeks ago. But hey, you can't rush the creative process. Which is a good job because being creative against a deadline doesn't work. To quote the great Douglas Adams, "I love deadlines. I love the whooshing noise they make as they go by."

Anyway, I digress. Which in it's own way probably explains why it takes me so long to finish writing them. Blast there I go again. At this rate I'll be 51 by the time you read this and you'll have wondered what all the fuss was about.  Where was I? Oh yes, my upcoming birthday.

It's always struck me as a bit odd the we congratulate each other on the arrival of another birthday. It's not like we had that much to do with. It just sort of happens. Yes, I have had the odd near miss over the years when out mountain biking - collisions with gates, rocks and a bread van come to mind. Oh and a particularly startled sheep when I was once forced to take evasive action by jumping over the stupid animal. But other than looking both ways when I cross the road and curbing my cheese intake, I've got here pretty much by default. Now I've written that, I'm suddenly all too aware that I may have counted my chickens too early and a sudden sense of dread has descended. Maybe I should've left this until I actually do wake up in the morning. 

Which brings me to another point. When actually is my birthday. No, I haven't gotten that old that I've forgotten already, but it's a question innit? When is it really? The reason I ask is that I was born in the northern hemisphere pretty and in Greenwich Meantime. So when it's my birthday here, it's not in the UK. And as I was born around lunchtime, technically, I'm not 50 until sometime on Monday morning. I don't suppose anyone is going to mind if I open my cards a day earlier but let's keep this between you and I just in case.

Ten years ago, we rented a large property in the middle of nowhere, somewhere in the Yorkshire Dales, and celebrated by inviting friends from the four corners of the UK. Well mostly from four corners of the top half actually. It was a great event and far exceeded expectations and I'm still amazed that we managed to get a take away Indian meal delivered, although it was a bit of an ordeal for the delivery driver. Ten miles or so down a single track path in the dark is probably something that he wasn't expecting on a blustery October evening. He did well, especially as he had a phobia about sheep, so I'm sure we tipped well.

If you'd told me then that I would be celebrating my 50th birthday in New Zealand I'd have thought you'd lost your mind. In fairness, I didn't expect to be celebrating my 50th here even five years ago. But that's life. If we knew what was up ahead then some days we wouldn't bother getting out of bed.

Which brings me onto another point. 2020 is sure one hell of a strange year to have hit 50. Plans that we had at the start of the year have been thrown out, re-written, thrown out again, and finally put on the proverbial back-burner. Even in New Zealand, where the pandemic has been relatively under control, there was a reluctance to plan too far in advance, just in case. That's why tonight, we're having a low key celebration at the local pub rather than risk anything too grand. In hindsight, we could've hired a venue, booked a band and had a right good knees up, but the risk of getting stuck with 200 sausages on cocktail sticks was off putting. Having them for lunch the day after would have been novel but I'm not so sure I could stomach two weeks of them. Wow, my stomach literally just turned at the thought. 

Meat-based snacks aside, I appreciate that I am really fortunate to be able to celebrate with some friends - it was unthinkable just a few weeks ago - as it still is in many other parts of the world. So in some ways, although we can't celebrate with family this year, being in New Zealand does give me some opportunity to mark the occasion. In about an hour I will be toasting my success at getting to the pub in one piece and counting down the hours until the big 5-0.

And the best bit is that we can do it all again next year in the Northern Hemisphere, once the travel restrictions are lifted and getting around becomes a little easier. Who is up for that? Cool. I'll bring the sausages.