Miserable Petty Post-Birthday Moan

Yesterday I hit the unbelievable age of 81.

No, I know there is nothing remarkable about that, but it doesn't feel real to me.  Yet.

Never having made much of a fuss about birthdays per se, I was amazed and a bit overwhelmed by the huge celebration my dear neighbours made of my 80th.

I hope I managed to show how pleased and happy I was last year but also hope I made it fairly plain that a repeat would not be so welcome.

Having said that, I love receiving cards whether birthday or Christmas cards and really value the time and effort people make to choose something appealing.  So, this in mind I was a little perturbed when no cards arrived early (usually oneor two come a day or so early) and then went off to work at St. M's knowing that the postman would not arrive on the day itself until mid afternoon.

I had a card and a planted terra cota pot  of violet and white Polyanthus from my friend the Parish Administrator, and a beautiful bouquet of pink and white lilies and roses from a neighbour.  The postman came and I picked up a pile of catalogues, advertising and charity appeals from the mat.
Not one single card and to  make matters worse today's post has just been delivered unusually early and again not a card to be seen.

In the scheme of things this is totally unimportant I know, but neither my family nor John's appear to have remembered the day.

One brother did ring yesterday and when I said a bit forlornly that no-one seemed to have sent me a card this year he said he had posted one to me a week ago.

So now I'm not just feeling neglected but actually mad at the thought that somewhere there is a compulsive card pincher sitting on a pile of cards addressed to me.............Or maybe not.