I do like to turn birthdays into a production. It's a gift. But it was a
gift that this time wasn't giving. Being quarantined is a bit of a
dampener. Also it's a bit hard to throw a party for a person in a
different part of the State. Work commitments saw Charles in Biloela
this morning. This meant that I couldn't provide the traditional
birthday breakfast of kippers. I'd be lying if I described this as a
negative. I hate the fishy stench that lingers for the whole day. But
birthdays allow you to indulge your inner passion no matter how stinky
and disgusting that might be. The only option was to find a more
palatable way to mark the day once the birthday boy flew in tonight. We
went out for supper. And there were gifts and sparklers because you have
to try to throw in a bit of theatre. It may not have been the "regular"
birthday but it's the thought that counts. Right?
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