Have to say, I hardly know. The pace of things is such that it feels like a single thought rises and falls like a breath over the course of a week; an action, at least a month; a chain of events, seasons; ... I catch occasional glimpses of people zipping back and forth as if on fire while I'm watching mountains at war.
I don't know if it's a matter of growing old, seeing from a different perspective, or both. Either way, somewhere in there I blinked: my daughter turns 14 on Monday.
Sometime last week I had a scotch. Maybe this is the start of a hangover :-)