The big eight-oh

The sun shone today for the octogenarian in my life as Himself's actual birthday allowed him to tackle the mound of boxes that appeared in our hall the last few days. I didn't get my porridge till 10.30 this morning, as I didn't feel I could concentrate on breakfast with the mountain of (largely recyclable) packing materials spreading over the room. Some were amazing surprises - the slightly squashy box, for example, that held a bouquet of artificial flowers - main pic in the collage - which in turn was spiked with chocolate bars on sticks and individual black, patterned socks (gents, medium) wrapped tightly round sticks so that they looked like ... bullrushes. And the foot of the cardboard vase was rattling with various sweets - just a lovely, crazy, unexpected thing. 

My belated breakfast segued almost seamlessly into coffee and birthday cake, after which and a few family phone calls we headed out to enjoy the midday sun in Benmore Gardens. We saw not a soul, but instead two robins, one at the Chilean refuge on the hill and one down by the lake. The sun shone through the trees and lit up the mossy ground, the ornamental lake was half covered in the thinnest of ice, and the normally burgeoning planted area around it completely bare but for the skeletons of past leaves. 
I've tried to capture some of the sense of it in the extra, another collage.

Once home, there were more phone calls from family, followed by an earlier dinner than I usually make, for by this time we were pretty peckish. Besides, this involved another present: #1 son had sent a Beef Wellington all ready for the oven, as well as a bottle of champagne and another of wine. The resulting meal was utterly delicious: my plateful is the bottom right of the collage.

The great thing about birthdays as one gets old(er) is that often there's an element of sharing in the presents: today was one of these days with considerable fringe benefits for the chief cook and bottle washer!

Talking of bottles: do you notice how that glass of champagne on an empty tummy has a swift and noticeable effect, but the subsequent glass of wine seems merely to maintain the jolliness rather than intensify it?