Scooting

 I ride into town on my non-motorised scooter.  I think I must be the only adult in Eastbourne who does this. I get looks. People smile. But it halves the walking time. And it's fun. I wonder more people don't use one.

My son rides his into work. But that's London- and this is a conservative little seaside town.

Not that I'm using those adjectives as perjoratives. I'm very happy here. 

The mind-body combo is a funny thing. I wake up feeling my age, my joints ache, my eyes are sore, I feel like I could slip a disc any moment- but then I get on the scooter and whiz into town and I'm 25 again. I do my errands, whiz back home- carrying two camping chairs in bags on my back- one on each shoulder (they were such a bargain I couldn't pass them by-) and in all that time I don't feel so much as a twinge...

Young Quakers

 I've been glancing at a booklet in which "young Quakers" talk about their Quaker identity.

It was published in '98- which means all these youngsters (who were aged 18-30 at the time) will now be middle-aged. 

Young Quakers do still exist. We had one visit the Meeting on Sunday. She was hugely popular. Everyone was thinking, "Please transfer your membership to us."  

We're a fairly lively crowd (considering that none of us is under 60) but we have a short use-by date. If we're not replaced by younger specimens the Meeting will fade away.

I'm not opposed to things fading away- it's the natural order of things- but all the same...