Happy day ...

I don't know why this should be a happy day, a birthday at my age; not because of the possibly visible ageing that might haunt one's forties or fifties but simply because of the shortening of the time left to have birthdays in. But today was a happy day, and I suspect it's that way because of other people - thoughtful gifts, the promise of more on the way (random Scottish bank holidays catch everyone at some time), a visit from my pal, champagne ...

Ah yes, champagne. Distinctly festive and well-chilled. And a glorious morning, and the buzz of Pilates, and a walk among the autumn trees later. And phone calls from sons and a delightful early-morning text conversation initiated by my older granddaughter on the bus on her way to school. (I do hope she wasn't late; she was fretting at the traffic.) And later this week, we're planning a shopping trip to Edinburgh, and we're going out for a meal - a sort of octave of celebration.

I took quite a few photos too, but I shall just put two extras - one of the last wisps of cloud in the morning sunshine, and one of the tiny toadstools on the grass (and moss) of the front garden. Anyone watching me must have thought I was crazy as I was taking it ...