Fifty-nine, looking down the barrel of sixty
I was fifty-nine last week. Not sixty yet... not for another year... but fifty-nine feels portentous. It's the year before the year which in a way turns it into the dress rehearsal. Some of you will have seen from Instagram that I was chatting to somebody recently who was dreading her forthcoming 60th birthday so much that she couldn’t even speak the word. She’s banned all family and friends from mentions of it and celebrations – her sixtieth is [...]
