50-year-old delinquent

I was born in the Queen Mary Maternity Home, Duffield Road, Derby on the twenty first day of March, 1963. Spring Day in England. The hospital isn't there anymore, but some of the buildings remain, fronting the pleasant-looking housing estate on Queen Mary Court. It seemed appropriate to head out for a visit last week, as part of my 50th birthday celebrations. It was a bitterly cod, but dry morning, and it was a good adventure with which to start the day. We had a nice wander around and took a few photos.
It's not every day that one turns 50, so I thought I'd make the effort to mark the occasion in memorable style. After my pilgrimage to the hospital site, we went into Belper and bought a copy of the Derby Telegraph (to preserve) before heading 'home' and receiving some greetings, cards and presents from friends and family, near and far.
Three of us went to The Spotted Cow at Holbrook for lunch, where I enjoyed mushroom stroganoff, roast vegetables and yorkshire pudding. Washed down with a pint of the rather curiously named Falstaff's 'Zsa Zsa Gabor' ale.
I was lucky enough to receive some more gifts, and a birthday cake, in the afternoon. I'd also had some internet purchases waiting to be opened so I was able to thumb through some 1970s Richard Allen novels.
The whole day was brilliant, and obviously quite different to my usual birthday minimalism...

This old man was happy with his lot.

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