Happy Birthday to me

Yes, the day has dawned, I'm now 38 years old and - having checked - nothing appears to have dropped off. Yet.

As I write, Vanessa is downstairs making my birthday breakfast. And she'd better get a move on, if you ask me.

I haven't been downstairs yet - did I mention it was my birthday?

But when I do summon the energy, I've got some nice cards and presents to open, most notably a big brown parcel from my mum which is very intriguing.

To this point, I've already been spoilt with a shower of "upstairs gifts" from Vanessa's immediate family and also from Vanessa and Jamie.

The most original offering thus far is an outdoor sheep ornament from Mrs W. That's right, I said an outdoor sheep ornament. And, you know, it's original. Plus Jamie likes it.

As for the rest of the day, all manners of activities are being considered (whether we actually pursue any of them is an entirely different question). But the undoubted highlight will be tonight when we're off to see Amy MacDonald play in Leeds.

If you haven't heard of her, do something to correct the situation immediately. She's wee, she's cute, she's Scottish and she's got a voice like a (tuneful) foghorn.

Happy Birthday to me.