It was my birthday this week, 9 October 1962 and I turned 62. 

I have actually been saying I am 62 all year because I never get my age right.  Not that age matters.  Inside I am still 12, just the exterior is falling apart, literally. 

 At the moment It is half past five on Sunday arvo and I am sitting in bed with a hangover because my husband and I had a party in the gazebo in our garden last night, with vodka, sprite, cashews, loud music and disco lights.  Luckily for the neighbours we are su...

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