‘Granpa, do you miss being a kid?’ Not the sort of question you expect to come, à propos of nothing, from a seven year old tucking enthusiastically into his breakfast. Nonetheless, a fair enough one, and deserving of a measured response. ‘Well no, because in my head I still am a kid’ was my eventual reply. ‘But…
My passport went off for renewal last week. Naturally, the application process entailed getting some new identity photos. Or, as it’s also known, a reality check. Compared to ten years ago I’m rather paler (the Abu Dhabi tan has long faded) and the face fungus is still a comparatively recent addition. Otherwise, not too bad really: a little more…
“All grown up: When was the first time you really felt like a grown up (if ever)?” Here’s a Freudian slip for you: when I first typed the writing prompt above, I wrote ‘last’ instead of ‘first’. Which maybe tells you that I don’t feel ‘grown up’ very often. Close advisers have told me that…
the only deadhead in the hameau 