When it comes to Mother’s Day, I don’t ask for much. Which is just as well because the Husband would pass out if he knew how much my favourite bubble bath cost (Elemis Muscle Soak, as it happens).
After spending last week in London tasting around 100 wines a day (I was judging at the International Wine Challenge, not just really thirsty), I’m back and trying to get on top of things.
This week, I hit 45. I know age is just a number blah blah blah but honestly, when I woke up on the morning of my 45th birthday it was the first time I’ve not been that excited about it being my birthday.
I went to a brilliant party earlier this week (out! On a school night!), the book launch for my friend and fellow wine writer Victoria Moore’s new book The Wine Dine Dictionary.
I realise it’s a bit like complaining that my diamond shoes are too tight but I got hit by a crazy skier last week whilst on the slopes in Austria and now I’m on crutches with a ruptured cruise ship (I’m told it’s cruciate but I prefer cruise ship) ligament.