My blog’s purpose is not to depress anyone. If you want someone to depress you please do look no further than to those who want to abolish apostrophes.
However, I am running out of time. I cannot believe that I have already lived as long as I have lived. I am a spring chicken compared to some. Still. I now measure everything not in cats’ years but in my son’s years. One minute, like yesterday, he was conceived, the next he was born, now he is 21 and a few months. I am incredulous. If time keeps pushing on like this I’ll be dead soon. So will he. I don’t like it. And don’t try and say anything nice like ‘pull up your socks”. I don’t wear socks. Though would love braces. But – being all skirts and dresses – braces are of no use either.