It looks as if a storm is approaching from the west. The dogs sense it - large pupils, pacing, panting. It's muggy inside. A variety of birthday scents fill the house; bubble bars, soaps, essential oils and fizzy bombs. In the kitchen there's still a lingering aroma of buttery lemon herby chicken, baked yams and carrots, sauteed cabbage and potato mash (pontiacs). This is overpowered by the familiar baked chocolate sponge cake - a prerequisite for the finale black forrest with chocolate ganache.
We're off to town to see a movie and the thought of an air conditioned theaterette is promising. The Grands won't be accompanying us, as we usually return way past their bedtime. They like nothing more than to have the security of a routine, which anchors and comforts them in their later years.
Today, there is no guilt, for it is the celebration of a birth. Today, we relax. Today, we live like kings and queens.