February 16, 2005

I don’t suffer from aging paranoia, thankfully; a little past 30 is a not unusual age for that sort of thing. I’ll probably get there sooner or later.

All the same it’s a little disconcerting when children I have known all their lives are suddenly at an age I can remember being, myself. The summer I was 11, I spent in the US, and I remember that very well. Yesterday, Miranda turned 11. It doesn’t make me feel old, but I do realise that I’m probably a grown-up, whether I want to or not.

Happy yesterday, M.


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