I turned 40 yesterday; I’m officially middle-aged. I didn’t do anything exciting other than eat almost an entire box of chocolates. I didn’t even feel sick and I’m unlikely to put on weight because a) I’m vegan and b) I’ve got Busby. The interesting thing about Busby is that there’s a positive correlation between my age and the amount of calories I burn cycling each day. This is because Daniel and Elizabeth are in the bike and they’re getting older each day too and consequently heavier. I can’t see any way to avoid this without starving them or cutting off their limbs from time to time. But I’d probably get in trouble if I did either of those things. And so with each passing month I’m burning more calories carting them around everywhere. It’s marvellous. Although I don’t think it’s very marvellous when I’m huffing and puffing up a hill.
We haven’t had any leaks with the house this week, thank goodness, and I’m starting to fall in love with it again. I’ve been sneaking out to the garden whenever I can to keep on top of the weeds and just to admire it. The house itself is also very spacious and comfortable. A couple of the bedrooms have some funky 1970s carpet going on but fortunately we don’t use these two rooms very often. One is the dining room (we eat in the kitchen mostly) and the other is a spare bedroom so my sister will get to enjoy bright blue paisley carpet this weekend. We’ll replace the carpet at some point or just rip it up and chuck it out.
Life is pretty good. I haven’t got any complaints.