Turning 40

I would be lying if I said that turning 40 had been completely stress and depression free, but the actual day itself was so special.

It started at 6:50 am with a phone call from my sister and cousins on holiday in Canada. I was as sober as a judge, they were completely off the planet. I hadn't laughed so much in years.

The effort my husand and daughter put into the day was wonderful. From choosing a lovely organic, maple cured kind of bacon for breakfast (and subsequently, unexpectedly, lunch) to ensuring I had enough dark chocolate to sink a battleship, to providing me with beautiful drawings and cards, they made sure I had a perfect day.

Bob gave me a beautiful rose quartz pendant - apparently the symbol of both fertillity and unconditional love.

My friend Anne gave me the most beautiful willow tree figure called Mother and Daughter in an embrace.

And just when I thought I'd opened all my pressies, the doorbell rang and the Interflora man was there with the most beautiful bouquet of flowers, with my favourite lilies and roses.

I had kind of wanted to head off to the Gallery of Modern Art for lunch, but my Inner Capitalist Ruthless Bitch got the better of me. Bob and Anna had given me the Edinburgh version of Monopoly and we ended up embroiled in a long game before going for a walk.

In the evening, Anna chose to go and play with her best friends while 15 of the people I care about most in the World gathered at my favourite restaurant. I am lucky that this place is just across from where I work - it's Oohla's in Dunfermline.

I had the most succulent spiced king prawns, followed by the most luscious, flavoursome and perfectly cooked fillet steak. The desserts they do in that place are to die for - you can have tarte tatin, chocolate brownies, strawberry cream meringues the size of small Balearic islands, fruit tartlets of so many colours and varieties, a cheese board assembled with love and proper thought. My friend Pippa had baked me a cake and covered it in a deep chocolate icing made with Green and Black Maya Gold. Could that be any more perfect?

One very non political and very special friend had been scared that she would be overrun by intellectual Lib Dems and had to be persuaded that political types could be normal sorts who liked reading OK magazine and the like. I was so glad that she made the effort to come even though she was a bit worried about it. I think she had a good time too, and I would not have wanted to be without her.

All in all, it could only have been more perfect if it had gone on for another 24 hours.