Science Guy completely outdid all previous birthday presents in the history of the world, and bought me this bike. It’s a Pashley Princess Sovereign painted Buckingham Black. It’s got five speeds, gold-lined mudguards, a dynamo headlamp and a ding-dong bell. I haven’t had a bike since my red raleigh 20 back in ’85 (but she didn’t have a basket). Can’t you just imagine riding this puppy through Richmond Park in summer, wearing a flowery frock?

Birthday plans required a jaunt across to the other side of Cornwall (stopping briefly at St Petroc the Minor, where several generations ago, Science Guy’s family did hail. He is apparently of Viking stock). Birthday lunch was a modest affair at a little seafood place. There was champagne, a lobster salad, posh fush ‘n chups, and treacle tart with clotted cream, which is quite possibly the best Monday lunch I have ever enjoyed. We waddled out into the building storm and made the drive back along the coast road (NB: Newquay is in the running for England’s Crappest Town).

I am currently sitting in front of a lovely wood fire, we have a couple of bottles of red, a load of cheese and a scrabble board. The storm is getting louder and the locals are advising against parking near the pier. There are no plans to leave the cottage tomorrow. Post-birthday Day is all about the dvds and the books. I may partake in an afternoon bubble bath.

Thirty six is rocking my face off.

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