A united country

As my birthday's approaching I've been thinking about age.

Husband is already in his seventies (very early) and I was thinking he's now past the age when people say, 'Oh that's young to die.' They'll say it for someone in their fifties and even sixties but seventies? I suppose you've had your allotted three score and ten years but still.

Not that I'm planning on dying for a long time - we don't always get a say in it but I'm doing my best to stay fit and healthy.

No, what I was thinking was more along the lines of, 'I really should have accepted who and what I am by now,' what I am being a little bit overweight, going grey, and wrinkly, and not worry about it.

In a way though it's the who I am that causes my problems. My default setting, the one I resort to at the slightest opportunity. The not good enough. The failure. 

All my life I've struggled with this. It really is time to change my mindset. I wish it were that easy.

Look, I didn't mean this to be depressing! In positive news unless Trump has paid off the courts it should be President Biden come January, with all the good environmental and compassionate changes he will bring.

Oh, and I watched a film over the weekend. Called United Kingdom it's about an African prince who marries a white woman in 50s London. The problems arise when he returns to take up his role as head of the tribe. Both his uncle, who is acting regent, and the British government - the country is a protectorate - don't just have objections: they behave appallingly.

It ends well I'm delighted to say. It's actually the true story of how Botswana became independent. If you've read any of the Number 1 Ladies' Detective Agency books you will have read Precious Ramotswe remembering with love 'Seretse Khama, who was a good man, who invented Botswana.' That's him, the prince who married a white woman.