I have spent the day celebrating my sixtieth birthday.   I was born exactly sixty years ago today in the Old Vicarage in Redlynch near Salisbury.   Early in the day, I was given some bright red, calf length socks, maroon braces, a book about Paul Smith and some cup cakes with pictures of me on them.   In some ways, it was an ordinary day, starting at 8am with a fundraising catch-up, a strategy meeting in the second half of the morning, interviews in the afternoon.   At lunch, I celebrated a new three-year partnership with BNY Mellon.   Now I’ve got my bus pass.



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