Erratum

Big mistake in my post for 12 April. It turns out that Mum is actually ninety this year. I think it's a reasonably forgivable error as she normally resolutely refuses to talk about her age and I was trying to figure it out from documents viewed quite some years ago. But yesterday, for the first time in living memory, she spoke directly of her age when I phoned her. I'm not exactly sure what precipitated this and she left me under strict orders not to tell everyone and of course I won't, well not outside this Far Place. Noi, in the meantime, is telling everyone.

In the meantime, spurred on by the possibility of making it to at least one more decade, I went for a run in the early evening, completing six (slow) laps of the track at school. I've hardly done any real exercise since Chinese New Year due to a highly disabling muscle strain in whatever muscle lurks in my right thigh, but the problem finally seems to have cleared and it's back to trying to take years off my biological age for me. (That's a line from So You Want To Live Longer, a programme the missus and I will be enjoying tonight, in my case even more self-righteously than usual.)