Monday, 30 July 2012

Blog 1/5 - Turning Thirty

It was my thirtieth birthday in May.  The day fell on a Sunday, so food wise it was an easy decision - roast lunch!  But aside from that, it was a very quiet occasion.  My parents had just come back from Wales, we were aware that very soon my uncle would be going into hospital (which turned into a real nightmare) and I don't think that any of us really felt up to making much of a song or dance about it.

But anyone who knows me knows that musical-type behavior doesn't really suit me, so we had a great time!

Deb made the cake.  I dropped it.  It didn't make much of a difference, really.

The surface of an ice-cream cake, looking a bit like that scene from The Thing right at the end.

My camera kit had been expanded with a 50mm f1.4 lens.  Hence lots of lovely shallow depth to the photos.

A pretty, pretty photo of my birthday cake, candles lit and light reflecting on glasses.

I didn't feel much fear about turning thirty.  I know it's quite traditional to start fretting about the state of your life in general and your internal organs in particular.  But on the whole (not withstanding a little glum thoughts about wasted time...but only for a minute or two) it was very happy and felt much like, well, not quite a start, but definitely a strong footfall in a recently begun sprint.  I almost wrote 'sprint to the finish', but that sounds rather fatalistic.  Perhaps it should be an early footfall in a long and interesting ramble.

Most importantly for this mind-set, of course, was that I got to spend the day with Deborah.  How could I be worried about the future when it has her in it?

The usual suspects - an amazingly attactive woman in a particularly pretty dress, light streaming onto her skin and hair, casting a golden aura around her, reflecting her inner glory.  And me staring at the camera like a psycho.

So really, that's it.  I can't write much more, which seems a shame when this is the start of my Olympian five post week.  But it was really that simple.  And that happy.


  1. I have found all the major round number birthdays (20,30,40...) to be mostly inconsequential. It's those odd little numbers like 23 or 37 that the really life changing things seem to happen. For some reason 55 was much better than expected. It's a milestone yet things are essentially still working and pain free (at least for me). The only big upcoming decade mark of 60 seems to have a greater significance than the rest. Perhaps because it's just two years from Social Security eligibility and things (various body parts) finally seem to be wearing out. The grocery stores and movie theaters will ask if you want the "senior discount" and you finally, finally realize that you will never be competing in the Olympics. But you can still watch, and read Olympian posting efforts. I look forward to all. - Steve

    1. Thanks Steve, let's hope reading the posts take slightly less effort than competing in some Olympic events ;)

      Age has always seemed a little inconsequential. I always looked a lot older than I was, so at 12 when I was being taken via taxi to the hospital school, people thought I was one of the medical staff. I think my age has just about caught up with my body, and it's likely that my body will now speed on ahead again! But it really does make a mockery of the importance of specific ages. It really is all about what's happening to you at certain times. I hope that the 60s treat you well. And remember, the oldest medal winner at the Olympics was a Canadian rider at the age of 61. So don't count yourself out yet!