benjamin Judge

I don’t know how it happened. One minute I’m in my forties, the next I’m fifty. Old.

Like… half a century old.

Or, to put it another way, I have lived an amount of time that feels important (to me) because it takes a fiftieth of that time for the earth to orbit the sun (and centuries ago people decided that the amount of time it takes for the earth to orbit the sun was one of the ways we would count things).

I’ve done fifty laps around the sun. I’ve travelled 29 billion miles. It seems like a long way but I didn’t even need to put my shoes on. It’s just what the planet does. It’s just maths. It’s just numbers.

It is a round number though, fifty. It’s got a zero on the end. It feels significant. A number with a zero on the end wins you a prize on a tombola. You can’t say that about thirty-seven. You can’t say that about twelve. You don’t win a prize for twelve. Not on a tombola. Not at any school Christmas fair that I’ve ever attended.

Anyway, fifty years old, a time for reflection, blah blah blah, and then I asked myself… what do I want from my fifties? And then I made myself some promises and one of them was to bring the blog back. Properly this time for real no messing not like last time or the time before that.

I have a plan, which I explain on the About section of the blog.