Minor panic this morning when CGF came downstairs to check on them: “I can’t see Reading” she said, coming back upstairs to drag me out of bed, “I think she’s gone”. No she hasn’t – she’s just hiding in the sputnik (a spherical-shaped hammock).

Reading and Music aren’t their real names. I just call them that to wind-up CGF Sprog 3 – though she doesn’t mind so long as I “don’t call them that to their face, or they will get confused”. CGF Sprog 3 isn’t her real name either.

So, my birthday. A couple of days of celebration, but today is the “post-Christmas get back to normal” day. The Ageds have been down too, so have been entertaining them – which is tiring in itself. You know (either from personal experience, or from what you have witnessed/been told) that parents with young children can never go out quickly. There is always one child who needs the loo, then another who hasn’t got a coat on, then one falls over and gets dirt over their clothes, meanwhile the first one has wandered off somewhere … It’s pretty much the same with Ageds.

Thursday morning we were going for a Spoons breakfast. “Meet at CGF’s at 0915” was the arrangement. 0916 The Aged phones “we’ve just got in the car”. Ten minutes later, they still hadn’t arrived. I could walk from the hotel to CGF’s in ten minutes. Then we got in my car to go to Spoons (it is a bit far for their elderly legs to walk) and it still takes them an age to get the seat belt on so we can actually start driving.

Friday we went to Hinton Ampner, a National Trust property with some wonderful, yet compact, formal gardens. I explained several times where we were going but on the way I was like taking a couple of six-year olds on a day-trip
“Ooh look, sign for the zoo. Are we going to the zoo?”
“No, we’re going to Hinton Ampner”
“Palace ruins? Are we going there?”
“No, we’re going to Hinton Ampner”
“We’re close to the Watercress Line. Are we going on a train ride”?”
*silently tears hair our and bangs head against wall*

They’re probably only doing it to wind-me up, in the same way that when I am at theirs I deliberately put the milk bottle on the table, or drink beer directly from the can. When we were there last, CGF Sprog 2 had a beer. I gave him a beer saying “you’ll probably get told off in a minute for not using a glass”
The Aged overhead and interjected “No, he can drink from the can if he wants to”
“Well, why am I not allowed?”
“Because you’re old enough to know better”

The time before that, the major disaster was that the lid to the marmalade pot had broken and they couldn’t find a replacement. That goes even beyond first world problems – to most people, the lid to the marmalade pot is the screw-top that goes on a jar.

Thursday we went to a gin factory. There’s a distillery just down the road from Smalltown where the flavour is added to turn raw spirit into Bombay Sapphire gin (a bit like pouring water through tea leaves to make a cup pf tea). It was a really good tour. The factory is located in a historic mill (originally a corn mill, but subsequently a paper mill where bank note paper was manufactured) on the banks of the river test – apparently one of the best chalk streams in Europe, where it costs upwards of £2000 for a day’s fishing. The location must be because the wonderfully clear waters are essential for the gin making process. Er, no. They are keen to point out that nothing is taken from or added to the river. The spirit isn’t distilled on site – it is imported – but merely infused through the “botanicals” to give the flavour. Then the 80% abv spirit is transported to Warrington, where it is mixed with water (note: “mixed with water”, not “diluted”) to bring it down to a safe and legal alcoholic content, bottled and shipped. So what, exactly, is the importance of this historic mill and the millions of pounds spent on restoring and converting it. Couldn’t its function be carried out pretty much anywhere? I can give you the answer in one word: “Heritage”. Bombay Sapphire is a young product (it’s been around for less time than I’ve been legally drinking). An ancient mill gives it history and heritage. And the fact that it is manufactured in the premises that were sometime used for producing the paper used for Bank of India bank notes gives it an extremely tenuous connection to Bombay.

As part of the renovation / tourist attractiveness of the place, they built two large greenhouses, in which they grow samples of the plants used to flavour the gin. In another room there are a number of jars containing aromas that you can sample, and mark off on a sheet what your favourite ones are. Then at the end of the tour you get taken to the bar where they mix a gin cocktail based on your choices. How cool is that? Though as The Aged, Mrs the Aged and I all got the same cocktail, we either have similar tastes, or it is all just a bit of hype. But the cocktail tasted good, so I’m not complaining!

The distillery is also very energy efficient. They recycle heat, and have a water turbine to generate electricity, with the result that they only take 10% of their power from the grid. So when you drink Bombay Sapphire you’re being eco-friendly.

As part of the clearance of the site, they improved the flow of the river (by dredging the rubbish accumulated over several years of dereliction). They improved the flow so well that the fish couldn’t cope, so they had to introduce some artificial obstructions to slow it back down again.

I wore my “I am 50 Today” badge all day – reluctantly at first, but I was told to by CGF. This was noticed at the pub were we had lunch and I got a flare in my dinner.

In the evening we went out for a family meal at a smart restaurant for my main birthday celebration. And I got a free bottle of fizzy wine.

Friday I could have taken The Ageds to the zoo, or the palace ruins, or the railway, but instead we went to Hinton Ampner. It was a great day for a visit, a sunny and warm day, with clear views. It was like a spring day, with bees buzzing in the flowers.

The roof of the building (which dates, incidentally, only from the 1960s – though to a Georgian design) was blown off in a storm last year, and has recently been replaced. So recently, in fact, that Friday was the final day of work – and the final day on which you could climb the scaffolding for a roof-top tour.

In the evening we’d invited various friends and family to Spoons for drinks. Including my nephew and his gf – I said that they’d come all the way from New Zealand just for my birthday.
“I don’t think I’d travel halfway round the world for my uncle’s birthday” said CGF Sprog 3.
“Well, that would be silly”, I replied “your uncle lives in Yorkshire”.

I wore a maths-related t-shirt for the evening. No prizes for guessing who gave it to me.