It's the Fox's birthday today. And I can't help rejoicing in the fact he is able to celebrate it. There was a time earlier in the month I wasn't so sure. The stroke could so easily have changed things irredemiably. Instead he's well on the mend. Still a bit tired. And maybe in the future he will have to take things a bit easier, but essentially he's the same Fox, & fit enough to appreciate life.
At the moment, I've got a meatball curry on the plop. It's a birthday treat by special request. We haven't had much spice this week.
Later this morning we're off to the Farmers' Market to get our month's meat supplies. The Fox had been thinking about going on out afterwards, to a garden centre maybe, but now the time has come, the idea of our usual Farmers' Market day lunchtime treat of a jacket potato at our local pub, then home for a bit of an afternoon nap appeals more.
Our friends, Fran & Den turned up yeasterday with a card & a bottle as they knew we weren't intending to go to the Pub today or tomorrow (yet another Bank Holiday). PD is quite upset about the latter & we're beginning to think maybe we will get there on Friday, despite our aversion to the crowds that usually appear on a Bank Holiday. We're telling ourselves that if the sun continues as it has been, most visitors will be outside in the garden so it shouldn't be too bad.
But today is the Fox's day to do as he wishes, to be treated & spoilt a bit. Happy Birthday Fox!
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