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BIRTHDAYED OUT

What to write for your first post? It’s like the first line of a novel isn’t it? You imagine lots of fellow bloggers clicking away after three seconds determined never to return.

Today is my husband’s 41^st birthday. He’s away and has been for the last three birthdays. We hid a card in his bag, and we’re having his birthday on Sunday instead. To be honest I’m birthdayed out. Both kids have their special days at the end of August, followed by parties once the new term arrives (you’re thinking ‘what possessed her to have them both in August? – hadn’t she heard of the school year cut-off?' Well, yes, and to this day I can’t explain why I did it once, let alone twice).

Poor Mr G; there I am collapsed in a heap from organising all the presents, family and friends celebrations (each with a separate homebaked cake), thank you notes etc. and I can barely muster the enthusiasm to shop for his card. Frankly it’s a good job he’s away because I need those extra few days to go online and spend vast fortunes in P&P getting stuff delivered in record time for his return.

I hope he doesn’t expect Eggs Benedict again this year for breakfast. I’ve attempted them three times in all, and I’ve finally admitted defeat. The hollandaise always curdles if you leave it to stand for three minutes, but even that was easier than poached eggs. I think of myself as a good cook but they are impossible. And don’t tell me to get a plasticy things for the microwave, or a metal thingy to hang off the side of the pan. I’ve tried them ALL, but never achieved that gorgeously plump cloud of delicious promise which gets served up all over America (and which Mr G tucks into every time). I thoroughly enjoyed it when Lisa Faulkener messed them up before going on to win Masterchef. Mind you, Danielle Lloyd did a great job, much to my disbelief.

I think instead I'll plan a brunch at our favourite café – let someone else have the cold sweat (and no lunch to prepare - result!).