Friko has posted a poem about getting older on her blog and asked what our thoughts were on the subject . I'm answering here because it's a bit longwinded for a comment .
Perhaps for me getting older , which , let's face it , we're all doing inexorably , comes with an acceptance of what we're probably not going to get round to doing .
Flying a plane seems less likely now , as does reading Homer in the original or crossing Patagonia on horseback .
But there are things that surely can't be beyond the realms of possibility ? There's no earthly reason why I shouldn't learn to paint in oils or to swim well . I can float alright but , much as I try , I seem to stay in roughly the same spot , however hard I try all these manoeuvers .
It could be due to my lack of co-ordination , of course . I can dance for instance , just not with anyone else . The Twist was a godsend ! But perhaps this year will see me swim a length or two in less than an hour .
Oh yes ! And , Friko will be glad to know that I'm going to read a real poem every day , even ones that don't rhyme . I'm easing myself in gently today with one in the vernacular , Roger Crawford's "Ma Old School Friend".
And before you scoff , it's about Macbeth .
