When my Mum was getting older and people would visit with kids, she would always , like they do, ask how old the kids were. When answered she would go into a spasm of calculation to work out how old she would be when they had become adults . At one stage she reached the age of 115 which she seriously believed she had a chance of reaching.

It’s different with me although I still seem to hold respect for the same gene.

My daughter , Sally, and two grandchildren, Lewis 5 and Ruby 1, came to stay this week and I fell into the same kind of muses except,
I know I won’t be there when Ruby, as a 70 year old can converse by touching wrist mechanisms with a stranger and can whizz along in driverless cars on multi level highways where no vehicle is allowed to be non environmental friendly.
I wish and don’t wish to be there. I just wish her every possible luck , chance and love, and hope that some, if not all answers will have been found by then.