A wee lie down

On Saturday we went to Bamburgh Castle, just south of Berwick-Upon-Tweed. My son’s first trip to England. He was non-plussed as always and slept through the whole journey. No interest in historical borders whatsoever.

Upon returning from Bamburgh, I hit a tiredness dip and needed a wee lie down. That’s age for you. Ten years ago I’d never have needed to have five minutes sparked out on the floor just to get through the evening. It came as quite a shock. Before I know it it’ll be all cardigans and slippers and a ‘nice cup of tea’.

I’m 37 years old. That’s pushing 40. But I don’t feel a day over 18. I suppose one difference is that the 18 year old me would probably have known whether it is acceptable to start a sentence with ‘but’.

Getting older is strange but not unpleasant. If you’d asked me five years ago for my observations on growing old, I’d have said that the main thing I’d noticed was that my circle of friends had reduced to a hard core group of individuals. The people who at that time (and even now) are still the closest to me. Many people had drifted off along the way for one reason or another. You just lose touch.

Five years on though and my circle of friends has grown to gargantuan proportions. I’ve met a lot of good people through all of the Marillion gigs I’ve been to from Holland to Aylesbury and back again. Good people. I’ve also become more involved in my football again, and have met a lot of good people through that.

Social networking has also put me back in touch with many people I’ve not seen since my schooldays or just slightly after. As Bob Hoskins once said, “It’s good to talk”. Long may it continue.

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