It is probably just time erasing the details, but in my memory that was a good birthday. I only remember the outdoor snow prediction scene, me taking off my mitten to feel the air and thinking it would snow, and the sight of a tiny solitary flake drifting down in the dark.
We probably ate butterfly shaped cake and sausages baked in the oven with twists of bread dough around them, but this is just probability based guesswork. I don't remember what year - but not 9, so supposedly 8 or 10.
I am sure it was no better or worse than any other birthday I had, really. I am not a great fan of my own birthdays, because I inevitably feel sad and lonely on that day.