This getting older lark is not always easy. The other day I thought I'd jump over a low fence; the sort of thing I'd have done in my youth without batting an eyelid. Instead, I batted several eyelids and took the sensible, or cowardly if you prefer, decision just to walk round it. Similarly, I know I can't run very far without collapsing in a heap, nor can I drink anything like the amount I did at university (probably a good thing). That said, we are most definitely going for quality rather than quantity when it comes to the booze. Being able occasionally to afford bottles of wine that cost more than a bottle of spirits is very satisfying. We even have some bottles that we're keeping for a few years to see if they get better (although, of course, because you only find out when you open a bottle how good it is, we'll never actually know if it might have been better opened when first purchased).
Grandchildren, of which we now have three, are another way in which nature tells you that you're getting on a bit. Mind you, they also provide an unalloyed source of pleasure, especially as you can hand them back when they need their nappies changed - something you weren't able to do with their fathers when they were the age their offspring are now.
Other things that strike me as important are enjoying yourself by meeting old friends who are indeed older friends. That's always encouraging, until you realise that they actually look younger than you, despite being actually older.
Grey hair is yet another one of those things that comes with age. Fortunately, I have far less grey hair than many of my friends, including some who are well over a decade younger. However, because I'm too mean to buy hair colour products (not to mention shampoo), I will just have to thole it when the grey starts to become the dominant colour. On a brighter note, at least I have hair to go grey.
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