It is hard to acknowledge the passing of the years. It only seems like yesterday that I was calling today tomorrow. I do however have to acknowledge that I am very squarely within the ambit of the midde aged. The tell tale signs are there. A trip to a garden centre is suddenly interesting. Deciding upon a coffee stop takes on a factor of importance. Getting home at a sensible hour is paramount.
But why is everyone else I see so old looking? The thing is that they are not, or rather they are not that much older than me. They are the same age, or slightly older, or increasingly slightly younger. How strange it is that suddenly you feel that you have to inspect ancient buildings and join the National Trust and sign up for the RSPB.