Diary

68 is not supposed to be a big birthday. But somehow it feels like one.

I tell myself "I'm 68" and it feels old in a way 67 never did.

Not in a bad way, necessarily. I don't like not being able to walk any distance or finding myself feeling unable to get out of chairs sometimes. But the rest of it I enjoy.

I love having grandchildren. There used to be such a compulsion in my life. A compulsion to get on, to succeed that's somehow gone.

One of the compulsions I'm in the process of losing is the need to explain or justify myself.

So in a minute I'll stop.

But I do want to say thank you for all the lovely messages and birthday wishes.

And say how much I'm looking forward to the year that is to come...