Thirty-six

Yesterday was my 36th birthday. Yes, I know, I don't look a day over 32. Like last year it was a top day, and included what I now consider to be an essential element of a good birthday: an afternoon snooze.

This birthday also included a birthday card and present from my son (with a little help from someone who knows how to handle his opposable thumb) and finishing a delicious bistro dinner at Le Metropolitan with a slice of cheeky Roquefort - surely the king of blue cheese. Now the china cabinet is topped with cards, a basket of chocolates, and the traditional bunch of flowers from my mother. What more could a girl ask for?

A Roquefort doggy-bag. Is it just me or does it look a little like a skull and crossbones?