A birth and a birthday

Thanks to all of the family, friends and colleagues who have sent me birthday wishes today – as the years fly by ever faster, and my sins of omission and commission as well as my many unexpected blessings loom ever larger in my imagination, I appreciate more each time around what it means to be remembered. Thank you indeed.

The real news though is not my┬ábirthday – this is a movie we’ve seen more than once before, after all – but the birth, on July 26th, of my third grandson, Gabriel Michael Fisher, to Hayley and Jonathan, in London UK. Cute as a button, he has brought joy already to his parents and grandparents and many others beside. Long may this continue.

Since we are speaking of birthdays, I’ve decided to do a reset on mine, in honour of the grandchildren: this year will be treated as year zero, and next year, along with Gabriel and Thomas (but not Josh, who is the senior among us) I will turn one.

So, when they ask me one day, how old are you, grandad, I shall say, I’m just as old as you are. That should confuse the little buggers completely. I can just imagine the laughter and consternation, the protests, the confusion.

At my age, it’s cunning, not strength, that keeps you ahead.