We are now in the middle of my Birthday week, which will undoubtedly turn into a Birthday fortnight, and I have been thinking that 41 must be middle aged? Over half way to 80. Yikes.
I found myself on a rare weekday off with the Mr, having decided to travel home from our weekend air show on Sun night so that Monday was ours without work.
Off to the coast we went. Yes I am aware that I live a minute walk from the beach but sometimes it’s nice to go where the posh people have holiday homes up the road a bit, and pretend to be tourists.
I’m working a lot of late shifts this week, and a night shift in the middle, so come The Day I will be ready for a lovely relaxed Sunday.
On a side note. I am amazed how many people walk into my wicker basket when I use it. It’s not big, and I hold it over my arm close to me, so why do they not see it? And if it weren’t there how close would they walk to me? Personal space anyone?