Alright, I confess, I bought a copy of The Times so I could have a go at the crossword. Oh come on - some of my happiest memories at university were spent doing the crossword! Sunday nights, the Dairy Milk would come out, someone would find a bottle of something from somewhere and we'd be off. I remember vividly leaning out of the window of my room and shouting '9 across: unicycle!' to my friend in the room below me.
I completed three clues before I realised that The Times crossword was beyond me. Maybe I just don't think in the right way any more. Maybe I've convinced myself there are better things to do on my half birthday.
What I did do today was go for a good long walk around Monsal Head. It's quite the valley. At the bottom, an old stone viaduct stretches peacefully across the river. It must have been wide enough to fit two railway tracks back in the day. As I walked across its finely gravelled path, I imagined steam trains powering out of the Headstone Tunnel from Bakewell, billowing into the valley, clacking across the sleepers and hurtling along the viaduct towards Buxton and Manchester. I could almost hear the whistle and steam. Today, all was quiet.
The weather was different again today: no grey clouds, just fluffy white cumulus rolling through the blue and casting shapely shadows on the patchwork fields and hills below. There were a few odd showers, but nothing like yesterday's ferocity. It was perfect for walking and perfect for sketching.
"Nice day for it," said a passer-by. I suddenly wished I were better at drawing as he glanced over at my smudgy cartoon trees and scribbled dry-stone walls. I'm not a great artist by any means. A few spots appeared on the page and I quickly stuffed my things back into my rucksack.
The other thing I discovered today is that I have a mild fear of cattle. I know cows aren't really about to charge into you or sink their teeth into your juicy flesh, but there is definitely something about the way they look at you. They can be menacing. As I creaked open a gate, a huge black cow stared at me, chewing silently, watching me like a school bully. Its lidless eyes tracked me as I walked gingerly by. I'm never quite sure about cows. I don't think they can be trusted.
Neither am I quite certain what the procedure is for a half-birthday. I bought some chocolate from Sainsbury's. The cashier was very friendly; the chocolate was very cheap. I wondered why it is that in the North, people are friendlier as stuff gets cheaper. I guess that's why Father Christmas is always so jolly anyway.
Half a cake? I did have a muffin in a Caffe Nero which looked smaller once it was released from its glass prison. I almost wish there had been somebody there with half a candle, ready to sing me half a happy birthday - a hap bir t'y if you will.
But don't let's be silly.
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