As the freezing fog gathers in the meadow and the log crackles in the grate, what better time to settle in the inglenook with a small glass of brandy and ask oneself the\u00c2\u00a0big questions? I take a little sip, let the fire’s radiant heat warm my cockles and begin to ponder. The first teaser is an issue that has troubled man since first we swung down from the trees:<\/p>\n
“How, Dear Sweet Lord of Mercy, can one body produce so much snot and phlegm?”<\/p>\n
It has been a big month for me. A few weeks ago I was stood in front of the bathroom mirror squinting at my reflection through my fingers when I spotted something. Looking down, I exclaimed:<\/p>\n
“What the +*^% is that?”.<\/p>\n
Something unfamiliar was dangling from me. It turned out to be my first grey chest hair. I decided not to let it bother me. A few days later I was trying to persuade P that we should go to London Loves – a blogger friendly club night – and shake our booties till dawn. She gazed at me with an exquisite pity and I shambled off to scroll through the viagra spam in my inbox utterly defeated.<\/p>\n
It was at that point that I had my moment of revelation: For too long I have been deferring gratification – putting things off. Why shouldn’t I go dancing?\u00c2\u00a0Why shouldn’t I start doing all the things I’ve always meant to do but been too timorous or too “sensible” to take on. It was all so clear to me. Then came a second epiphany: It’s here … the mid-life crisis. I felt the back of my head to see if a pony-tail had already begun to sprout.<\/p>\n
What revelations has this year held for you?<\/p>\n
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