In which the Curate is spoiled

Tomorrow I will age perceptibly. I know this not because I have advance warning that the day will be particularly stressful (though it's possible, I suppose) but because of simple chronology. That's just the way it works.
But today I feel hugely loved and thankful....just look what happened at Little Fishes.

I'd kind of thought (fx) whisper 47 wasn't much to write home about, but low-key isn't a concept that the wonderful Lightstone family in particular are prepared to countenance. The design in the middle of the cake is our rose window at St M's, which C and B had photographed and then had printed onto edible paper...quite amazing! And the last time I had a cake with little sugar flowers on must have been while my mother was still alive; because childhood cakes looked like that, this somehow feels extra authentic (and the cake is pretty yummy too). So it's been quite a morning, followed by good pub lunch with a friend who found time in a madly busy and not great day to come over and be with me. Oh, I am so blessed!
What's more, I now understand why people were so peculiarly eager to get me to enter the church by the west door! Talk about spoiling. I never expected to make it to the West Porch boards,- this is clearly the silly season.