I was quite depressed when I wrote last night’s blog. I was wr… damn, I struggle with this one. I was wr… come on, Pauline, you can do it… I was wrong. There. I said it. It is utterly delicious and took me straight back to childhood birthdays.
In fact, it tasted of her love. Which is, rather alarmingly, my relationship with food perfectly analysed.
I’m actually having rather a lovely birthday. I also got probably the most 2020 gift it’s possible to receive…
54. I’m 54. And in no hurry to grow up yet, thank you very much.