I can remember it as if it were yesterday….. (which sadly it wasn’t), and yes, that one, tiny digit does make a difference. Why? My body hadn’t changed overnight, but a little ratchet in my brain mysteriously clicked on a notch. Another milestone birthday towards becoming the dreaded grown-up I was never meant to be.

This was the moment I started to question my life choices. How significant was the other? Did veggie dippers count towards my five a day? Why did I never become a professional raclette cheese taster?

Luckily I really didn’t need to panic about the last (or the first - he was very significant). 

For some it’s ice cream, for me it’s cheese. I am a border-line professional. There is no mid-life crisis that can’t be sorted while drowning in a sea of melted cheese and it seems I am not alone. Cheese is the new chocolate (unless of course the bar has been melted ready for a good dipping, in which case it’s a toss up).

So treat yourself. Gooey goodness here we come. After all, turning 30 only happens once, and on the plus side all the stuff I wore when I was 20 also magically turned vintage overnight. Absolutely nothing wrong with a spot of velveteen.

Every cloud etc.