Happy Birthday Stephen

It's my husband's Stephen's birthday today and he is FIFTY. Mind you, he's looking well and that's probably due, of course, to having lived with me since he was eighteen.

(I think I can hear distant laughter so you can stop that right now).

Stephen's not exactly gregarious - - in fact he's the exact opposite of gregarious. Ungregarious, probably. He likes his own company, and he talks best to computers or anything technical really. When any machine isn't working my first line of attack is to say to it, in a kindly but firm tone, "I am married to Stephen and he has gone to get the screwdriver". He can often mend things like radios by laying his hands upon them. Interestingly, I can break them using exactly the same method.

He's always been lovely to me - and to my parents - really I think my mother prefers him to me! - and he's always been a great father to Olli.

When we met and I was a postgraduate of just twenty-one and he was a first year student of eighteen, nearly nineteen, it seemed to others like a big age gap. For some reason it doesn't seem so big any more, now he's FIFTY and I'm - - - er - - right, that's enough of that, I'm stopping this post right here.

Happy Birthday Stephen!