Birthday's are weird
So for the 41st time, I'm celebrating another year on the planet. I'm not sure why we celebrate such an achievement, I had very little to do with it. Maybe I find them weird because I had my 13th birthday on Friday the 13th!!
There are few achievements that I'm vocally proud of, but there are events I'd prefer to celebrate every year than the date of my birth. The date of my first book launch, the day I passed my driving test, and even the day I escaped a burning building might all be good candidates. Yet I couldn't even tell you when the dates of these significant moments was. I've kept a diary, on and off, since September 2007 yet more of my notable achievements happened before it began. All except the first book launch, 22nd March 2017.
This in itself is also a red herring. The Limpet Syndrome had three births. Each time it came screaming into the world I shoved it back in my writing womb for more gestation. The second birth came in June and then the final one just last week! What I'm certain about is the birth of the next book. It will be delivered (by Caesarian) on Monday 6th November. Fingers crossed for limited labour pains.
Here's a series of birthday photos which show how life may have changed just a little. Photos are from birthdays: 25th/27th/32nd/34th/36th/38th/39th/40th