Recently it was my very ‘appy berffday. I’m now 14 years and six weeks older than the more optimistic estimates made by family members around thirty years ago. In those days I did tend to live a rather boozy hedonistic lifestyle so a life expectancy of 40 was regarded as rather conservative. Ahh the marvels of healthy living.
Maersk Mariner at Trinity Quay, Aberdeen, 1996
Memsahib allatsea has rather usefully purchased one of those mini handheld computers with ‘brain training’ software installed. I’d seen the adverts on the telly and she must picked up on my interest. Well done that lady. Last night I had my first go at ‘What age is your brain?’ I’d rather not share the value the stupid thing came up with safe to say it wasn’t accurate or complementary. That said, we had just wellied a large bottle of French fizz (thankyou Steve and Mel) and I’d followed that up with sociable quantities of Gordan’s finest so I wasn’t on the best numeric form.
In a quiet moment a few minutes ago I repeated that test and was scored at 47 (ahem). What inordinate and dis-proportionate joy that news has brought. Dear me, the shallowness that age consciousness brings, I stand ashamed.
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