How to celebrate your 50th birthday
There are no hard and fast rules about celebrating a 50th birthday but usually, encouraged by friends and family, you must mark it with at least one party. Marking a new decade gets people excited, as if that single second at 23:59 and 59 seconds which takes you from your 40's to your 50's will be a eureka moment. It wasn't. I slept through until 9am and woke up feeling exactly the same.
A few months before my birthday I thought I might have a little lunch party or a drink with friends but as the big day approached I decided I would milk it for all it was worth. My "significant" birthday would be celebrated with as many get-togethers as possible. I did get a few medical letters, encouraging me to have a breast scan and a cervical smear now that I was half a century... that was nice... but apart from that I felt healthier and fitter than I had in a long time so thought that at least was worth a glass of champagne or two.
I began by inviting my 3 oldest girlfriends down to Somerset. I have known 2 of them since I was 17, and the third since I was 26. On my bedside table I have a photo of the four of us on my 30th and 40th birthdays respectively. Smiling, slightly squiffy and very happy. My 30th birthday I shared with my fiancé at the time, who was also my twin (same age, same year of birth... no wonder we split!) and we had a big dinner party in a gorgeous restaurant in Holland Park. It was followed up with another celebration at the Sanderson Hotel and in the photo, the four of us girls are dressed all in black, lounging on a designer sofa with one friend lying across our laps, pouting and trying to look cool. For my 40th birthday I had a big party in a pub in Balham and in that photo, my three friends and I are standing in a row with our arms around each other, in flowery summer dresses, one friend having just given birth to twins, another heavily pregnant with her first child. We are tanned and glowing and this time, only three of us are alcoholically merry.
The girls came down the weekend before my actual birthday, to spend the Saturday and Sunday with me. One of my friends offered to cook dinner for us all as a birthday present, and so delivered her Ocado food order to my house the night before so that she didn't have to carry it all on the train and could arrive at my place and prep dinner before we headed out for the afternoon. The first slight hiccup was that two my friends had traveled down from Waterloo on the train and managed to consume 2 bottles of Prosecco on the way. I'm not saying they were inebriated but when I picked them up from the station they were very merry and very loud and had befriended a good looking man on the way down, who I suddenly thought might be joining us the way they were linked arms with him as they exited the station, giggling. My other friend had arrived on a different train and so once I had them all in the car we headed home. The previous Prosecco consumption made the prepping of dinner slightly less efficient, accompanied by the fact that two of us had terrible arthritis in our fingers and hands so couldn't chop the vegetables. But we persevered and once everything was prepped and the slow-cooked lamb was in the oven we headed out to a beautiful country house hotel nearby. Not only were they showing the World Cup football on big screens outside (which was terribly exciting because England hadn't been knocked out yet) but it was a gloriously sunny day and perfect for lazing around in the garden.
We arrived at the hotel and I quickly told the girls the rules of the house. Not my rules I hasten to add, but the hotel rules. #1 Turn the volume off on your phone so you don't disturb people with pings and dings, and #2 Do not take any photos where other guests may be in the background. This is simply because they do have a few celebrities around and you're not allowed to take photos of them, even by accident, in case you put them on social media. Fair enough. Everyone abides by these rules except my one friend apparently, who loudly exclaimed, "I'm 51 years old... my whole life people have been telling me what to do and I'm certainly not going to bloody well be told what to do now!" Oh blimey! After a few angry huffs and puffs from her and a stern 2-minute silent treatment from me, she relented. We found a lovely table in the garden and the girls ordered Prosecco (possibly the most expensive bottle on the planet I have to admit). Bear in mind that as I was driving, I wasn't quaffing the booze as readily as the others and had a more sober view of the following drama!
As we toasted our friendship, we all commented on how beautiful the champagne glasses were... old fashioned cut-glass crystal coupes rather than flutes, and my "I hate rules" friend announced that she might even slip a few of these glasses into her bag! We all laughed nervously and I said that she better not because this wasn't the sort of place to do do that, and I would never be allowed back if the staff found out. After an hour or so and the football came to an end, we decided to leave and go to a gorgeous pub in the next village, an old coaching inn with cobbled terraces, a beer garden and much cheaper drinks. As we sat down at a table in the walled courtyard I lowered my bag to the floor and noticed one of the champagne glasses in my friend's bag. I couldn't believe it. Oh God I thought, I will never be able to show my face at the hotel again. Worse, I might be arrested and have to skulk around Frome as word spread of this scandalous behaviour, but as it has now been 3 weeks and no one has tapped me on the shoulder, I'm presuming the crime wasn't witnessed. Karma is also a beautiful thing because when we got back to my house, my kleptomaniac friend took the glass out of her bag and dramatically banged it on the table with a "Ta-dah", where it promptly snapped in two!!!
The four of us carried on into the night, with a divine Ottolenghi-inspired dinner, lots of bubbles and a gorgeous birthday cake. It was a balmy evening, I had the garden lit up with strings of retro light-bulbs and candles, bees and butterflies hovered, and it was just wonderful to be with my girls, where no subject is off limits, teasing is enforced, and secrets are kept. The volume of voices and music may have been a little loud for my quiet street but I had warned the neighbours and so we were left in peace. We slept like logs and then walked into town for a long brunch, before I took them all back to the station and sadly waved farewell. I hope it's not another 10 years before we all get together again.
The day of my actual birthday, Friday 13th July, I had the day off and invited four new Somerset friends and my wonderfully eccentric Aunt to lunch at a local restaurant, 5 minutes walk from my house. The bistro is at the top of the most bustling street in Frome, Catherine Hill, a long steep cobbled lane, lined with artisan craft shops, vintage clothes boutiques, gift shops and café's, and so every few minutes one of us would see someone we knew and wave out of the window. Cars slowed and beep beeped and friends of my friends stopped at the table to say hi. I love this about Frome... a constant stream of friendly faces. In the evening I had a few drinks at my house and the next day my sister had a garden party for me at her house.
My sister, brother-in-law and nephews have lived in Frome for about 16 years and have a gorgeous detached house the opposite side of town to me, with a big garden and lots of outdoor seating, so it was perfect to have my family, my best friend and godparents down for the day. It was a scorching day and we pretty much ate and drank for 5 hours, catching up on news and gossip and generally having a lovely time. Then me and my bestie went to the pub and came back to mine for drinks. We had brunch the next day and had another lazy day in the sun. Somerset is the perfect backdrop to lazy sunny days... rolling green hills, fields of wild flowers, lots of wonderful pubs, plenty of friends with gardens and a laid back attitude to life, where nothing is really rushed – an annoying trait when you're waiting for workmen to show up but great for everything else.
The following week I had two more lunches with friends and was genuinely spoilt rotten. The other good thing was that I asked everyone for donations to my garden rather than gifts so have managed to plant all my flower beds, buy a beautiful outdoor rabbit painting, purchase a few big pots and still have money left over for a fire pit, a vintage outdoor mirror as well as a bit of furniture. Lovely. I still have a belated birthday party planned for September, which will double-up as a house-warming, so that's another thing to look forward to. My house is also officially open for guests to stay so please come and visit... my only rule is no stealing!
A few months before my birthday I thought I might have a little lunch party or a drink with friends but as the big day approached I decided I would milk it for all it was worth. My "significant" birthday would be celebrated with as many get-togethers as possible. I did get a few medical letters, encouraging me to have a breast scan and a cervical smear now that I was half a century... that was nice... but apart from that I felt healthier and fitter than I had in a long time so thought that at least was worth a glass of champagne or two.
I began by inviting my 3 oldest girlfriends down to Somerset. I have known 2 of them since I was 17, and the third since I was 26. On my bedside table I have a photo of the four of us on my 30th and 40th birthdays respectively. Smiling, slightly squiffy and very happy. My 30th birthday I shared with my fiancé at the time, who was also my twin (same age, same year of birth... no wonder we split!) and we had a big dinner party in a gorgeous restaurant in Holland Park. It was followed up with another celebration at the Sanderson Hotel and in the photo, the four of us girls are dressed all in black, lounging on a designer sofa with one friend lying across our laps, pouting and trying to look cool. For my 40th birthday I had a big party in a pub in Balham and in that photo, my three friends and I are standing in a row with our arms around each other, in flowery summer dresses, one friend having just given birth to twins, another heavily pregnant with her first child. We are tanned and glowing and this time, only three of us are alcoholically merry.
The girls came down the weekend before my actual birthday, to spend the Saturday and Sunday with me. One of my friends offered to cook dinner for us all as a birthday present, and so delivered her Ocado food order to my house the night before so that she didn't have to carry it all on the train and could arrive at my place and prep dinner before we headed out for the afternoon. The first slight hiccup was that two my friends had traveled down from Waterloo on the train and managed to consume 2 bottles of Prosecco on the way. I'm not saying they were inebriated but when I picked them up from the station they were very merry and very loud and had befriended a good looking man on the way down, who I suddenly thought might be joining us the way they were linked arms with him as they exited the station, giggling. My other friend had arrived on a different train and so once I had them all in the car we headed home. The previous Prosecco consumption made the prepping of dinner slightly less efficient, accompanied by the fact that two of us had terrible arthritis in our fingers and hands so couldn't chop the vegetables. But we persevered and once everything was prepped and the slow-cooked lamb was in the oven we headed out to a beautiful country house hotel nearby. Not only were they showing the World Cup football on big screens outside (which was terribly exciting because England hadn't been knocked out yet) but it was a gloriously sunny day and perfect for lazing around in the garden.
We arrived at the hotel and I quickly told the girls the rules of the house. Not my rules I hasten to add, but the hotel rules. #1 Turn the volume off on your phone so you don't disturb people with pings and dings, and #2 Do not take any photos where other guests may be in the background. This is simply because they do have a few celebrities around and you're not allowed to take photos of them, even by accident, in case you put them on social media. Fair enough. Everyone abides by these rules except my one friend apparently, who loudly exclaimed, "I'm 51 years old... my whole life people have been telling me what to do and I'm certainly not going to bloody well be told what to do now!" Oh blimey! After a few angry huffs and puffs from her and a stern 2-minute silent treatment from me, she relented. We found a lovely table in the garden and the girls ordered Prosecco (possibly the most expensive bottle on the planet I have to admit). Bear in mind that as I was driving, I wasn't quaffing the booze as readily as the others and had a more sober view of the following drama!
As we toasted our friendship, we all commented on how beautiful the champagne glasses were... old fashioned cut-glass crystal coupes rather than flutes, and my "I hate rules" friend announced that she might even slip a few of these glasses into her bag! We all laughed nervously and I said that she better not because this wasn't the sort of place to do do that, and I would never be allowed back if the staff found out. After an hour or so and the football came to an end, we decided to leave and go to a gorgeous pub in the next village, an old coaching inn with cobbled terraces, a beer garden and much cheaper drinks. As we sat down at a table in the walled courtyard I lowered my bag to the floor and noticed one of the champagne glasses in my friend's bag. I couldn't believe it. Oh God I thought, I will never be able to show my face at the hotel again. Worse, I might be arrested and have to skulk around Frome as word spread of this scandalous behaviour, but as it has now been 3 weeks and no one has tapped me on the shoulder, I'm presuming the crime wasn't witnessed. Karma is also a beautiful thing because when we got back to my house, my kleptomaniac friend took the glass out of her bag and dramatically banged it on the table with a "Ta-dah", where it promptly snapped in two!!!
The four of us carried on into the night, with a divine Ottolenghi-inspired dinner, lots of bubbles and a gorgeous birthday cake. It was a balmy evening, I had the garden lit up with strings of retro light-bulbs and candles, bees and butterflies hovered, and it was just wonderful to be with my girls, where no subject is off limits, teasing is enforced, and secrets are kept. The volume of voices and music may have been a little loud for my quiet street but I had warned the neighbours and so we were left in peace. We slept like logs and then walked into town for a long brunch, before I took them all back to the station and sadly waved farewell. I hope it's not another 10 years before we all get together again.
The day of my actual birthday, Friday 13th July, I had the day off and invited four new Somerset friends and my wonderfully eccentric Aunt to lunch at a local restaurant, 5 minutes walk from my house. The bistro is at the top of the most bustling street in Frome, Catherine Hill, a long steep cobbled lane, lined with artisan craft shops, vintage clothes boutiques, gift shops and café's, and so every few minutes one of us would see someone we knew and wave out of the window. Cars slowed and beep beeped and friends of my friends stopped at the table to say hi. I love this about Frome... a constant stream of friendly faces. In the evening I had a few drinks at my house and the next day my sister had a garden party for me at her house.
My sister, brother-in-law and nephews have lived in Frome for about 16 years and have a gorgeous detached house the opposite side of town to me, with a big garden and lots of outdoor seating, so it was perfect to have my family, my best friend and godparents down for the day. It was a scorching day and we pretty much ate and drank for 5 hours, catching up on news and gossip and generally having a lovely time. Then me and my bestie went to the pub and came back to mine for drinks. We had brunch the next day and had another lazy day in the sun. Somerset is the perfect backdrop to lazy sunny days... rolling green hills, fields of wild flowers, lots of wonderful pubs, plenty of friends with gardens and a laid back attitude to life, where nothing is really rushed – an annoying trait when you're waiting for workmen to show up but great for everything else.
The following week I had two more lunches with friends and was genuinely spoilt rotten. The other good thing was that I asked everyone for donations to my garden rather than gifts so have managed to plant all my flower beds, buy a beautiful outdoor rabbit painting, purchase a few big pots and still have money left over for a fire pit, a vintage outdoor mirror as well as a bit of furniture. Lovely. I still have a belated birthday party planned for September, which will double-up as a house-warming, so that's another thing to look forward to. My house is also officially open for guests to stay so please come and visit... my only rule is no stealing!
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