34 and Counting

Yesterday I turned 34.

Most of the day was average.

Amongst the cards there was this "true to form" poetic offering from mother:

Great oafs from little infants grow,
It is a truthful saying.
Full four and thirty years have rolled,
And all of us are praying
That Rich will ever greater grow,
In oafishness and knowledge,
By cycling much and preaching loud
And eating bowls of porridge.

My favourite gift was this one, a new addition to the staffroom cupboard, decorated by a very dear friend. Hopefully, having my name on it in big letters means it won't go walkies:

I like to think of myself as a Bob Parr.