Middle age

If I'm trying to explain something to someone, I'll often fall back on using an analogy. I guess that's a reflection of how I like to have things explained to me; put it in the context of something that I already understand. Maybe that's a manifestation of the human urge to find patterns as method of understanding the world around us. 

(I'm always so impressed by the mathematicians and quantum physicists, amongst others, who operate in esoteric worlds using models that have no real world equivalent.)

Sometimes, just as I'm going to sleep my mind will make odd connections between things, which are mostly nonsense, but I like to think that it was in such a state that August Kekulé dreamt of the snake biting its own tail that gave him the insight into the structure of benzene. 

Today, I was looking at this little figure of Father Christmas driving a train (with carriages that hold tea lights) and I was struck by the notion that middle age is just like the period between Christmas and New Year. I won't labour the analogy here - not least because I'm not sure it bears close examination - but, as a fifty year old, it gave me a great sense of calm and optimism about the year ahead. 

Mind you, I'm been in a pretty positive mood all day: this morning I weighed myself and I was the heaviest I've been in MY WHOLE LIFE. And for some reason I found this very amusing and I felt almost celebratory. (I'll need to do something about that, though.)