Thirty. It crept up the way these things do: a slow Tuesday, a coffee, a sudden realisation that the year has a shape to it I hadn't noticed picking out. So I'm doing the small obvious thing: a long table, a few people I love, a bottle of something good.
I've kept this list short and honest. A lunch I won't be cooking. A couple of things I've been quietly putting off buying for myself. A little something toward what comes next. Your company is the only part I'm counting on; the rest is here for anyone who'd like to be part of it.
