Went to the Easter Show for the first time in ten years (probably), today. Loaded with showbags. Exhausted legs with walking, and shoulders with carrying. Even my wrists are weak. Got there at 9.10 in the morning, and left at about 9.15-9.30, probably.
I doubt I’ll want to go for another five years, at least. Which isn’t to say that I didn’t enjoy it, but I am reaching my dotage… (Although I did go to try out this new-fangled eye massager (it was like a mask that moved and vibrated over your eyes, along with headphones, while you sat in a plush leather chair), and the attendant saw me reaching for the device and said, “you have to be over 18 to use that”. “I’m 26,” I replied.)
I noticed that I found the cake decorating and other arts and craft much more interesting than I remember finding them previously (ie, being bored while my parents looked at boring things). Personal growth, perhaps? Maturity? Decline into the average? Who knows.