Monday 25th August 2025

60 years ago, at quarter to eight on a Wednesday evening, right in the middle of Top of the Pops, I entered this world.

Kicking and screaming.

Twenty one years on, I celebrated that birthday with my parents taking me to the poshest restaurant in town, telling me next time I would be paying.

Four years on I did, when I was on the cusp of joining the RAF.

Twenty years ago I celebrated my 40th in naughty Las Vegas with friends from Arkansas, where we dank a lot. Slept little.

Mum told me that once you reach 21, birthdays become something not to be celebrated, and come round every quicker.

This is true.

I live in east Kent, where I have done with Jools for 18 years. I worked locally for a while, but I really have not made friends other than through photography.

Friends are something we find easy to make in school or in the military, but later in life and living in a small village, on the edge of a small village, making friends is proving difficult.

We have a good relationship with our neighbours, and go to the occasional quiz with them on one side, and there is Sean and Ange, of course.

But.

But I am now retired, and unless my volunteering magiks up some friends, life could end up being quite lonely. I have Jools of course.

But you see what I mean.

We had planned on having a celebration: combined birthday and retirement party, but finding a venue that was free, doubly so as my birthday fell on the Late Summer Bank Holiday, venues were just not available.

So, weeks and months slipped by, and the plan was to go to a local pub with friends and family for a few drinks.

One by one they all dropped out until it was going to be just Jools, Jen and me. We have tea and cake at her place and scrapped the pub visit.

Life happens, I know. And being an only child I can make my own entertainment. But even still.

So, into my 61st year, and a new dawn as I am to be a church tour leader. Of sorts. Maybe that will help.

It'll get me out of the house once a fortnight, if nothing else.

So, what should have been a day of drink, food and celebration, was an altogether quietier affair.

I got up at seven, and there was a card from Jools. She sang happy birthday, and we had coffee.

Then breakfast.

Town was pretty busy according to the radar, and even Deal was pretty bad. And got worse, so that the back up plan of going to The Berry was scrapped.

I got calls from friends, wish me all the best for the day.

I sat in the garden with Scully, or ran around after butterflies and moths. I saw a freshly emerged Gatekeeper, some nearly two months after when he should have hatched.

Lots of Large and Small whites on the wing, but with the breeze and bright sunshine, all pretty flighty.

At two we went to Jen's to pick her and John up. But John had bailed, so it would be just the three of us. Then Jools got the cake out: it was huge, so her neighbours came round and so we all had huge slices with a cuppa. Then talked for an hour.

I messaged Sean to say we were running late, but he couldn't make it either, so it was then that I said let's not bother with the pub at all.

So, soon after we came home, opened a bottle of beer for me, and cider for Jools, then sat on the patio looking at the garden and all that visit it.

It gives us joy.

Supper is cheese and crackers, with more cider and a bottle of Chimay grande reserve for me, before I settle down to watch the evening game: Newcastle v Liverpool, which was a feisty affair, with Liverpool nicking it with a goal in the 100th minute.