Tric Kearney: I wobbled away in need of a sit down. As life returned to my muscles, I vowed never again. It was time to move on

THERE’S always something lovely about a Friday, but today is an even more glorious Friday as it heralds St Patrick’s weekend and with it my birthday.

Yes, I’m another year older. I have reached that time in life where, when someone asks me, ‘What age are you?’ I can’t immediately remember. What year was I born? Ah yes. And what year is it now? No, that couldn’t be right. Quickly I recalculate and, unless it’s a medic who’s asked the question, I lie, knocking at least five years off.