Whose Birthday is it?

 

On Sunday my dear mother celebrates her 92nd birthday.  A goodly number of her descendants congregate at The Old Workshop for a family lunch which will be memorable for the panoply of desserts that are contributed by various members of the family.

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I roasted a Daniell leg of lamb, with spuds, parsnips and a bucket of gravy.  At the last minute I had decided that it might be wise to make a generous lasagne as well in case some children showed a preference.  Good thing I did, the hungry hordes cleaned up very efficiently.  1FBLunchBut a good thing too is that everyone was not so bouffed out with their main course that they could not do the puddings justice, and the two birthday cakes.  Mum’s candle moment was enjoyed by all, not least her!  After tea and cake the children roared round the garden playing Sharkie Sharkie and Mum sat in my granny chair, in the corner retreat by the big glass kitchen doors.

I put out some cheeses, French bread, oatcakes and piccalilli on the island unit. Meanwhile the children continued to play and formed a human pyramid 🙂  4FBPyramid The cheese and pickles (I topped up the piccalilli several times) disappeared as the adults topped themselves up and before too long it was time for those with longish journeys home to get underway.  We assembled in the hall for a group photo, something which I will treasure, as Mum is sat in the carver chair of her former dining suite and flanked by the youngest family members, and fanning out to the adults with Dan, Barns, Nick and Martin, guardians of the clan.

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At several moments during the day Mum needed to be reminded that it was a birthday party, and indeed it was her birthday!  As she left with Christina I helped her into the car and expressed the hope that she had enjoyed her birthday.  “Oh,” she said “was it my birthday, today?”  “Yes, Mum it was your 92nd birthday”.  “92?!” incredulously.  “Yes Mum, and I am now 69”.  Incredulous look.

 

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