Got a minute to explain where the time goes?

Stuart Barber.
Stuart Barber.

I may have asked this before – on reflection I have probably asked this many times before – but where does the time go?

It seems like only yesterday I was moaning about getting up in the dark to get ready for work and then getting ready to go home again – in the dark.

But here we are again – already – the onset of another season looms large.

The depressing thing about this particular time of the year, the weather changing and the clocks changing and all that, is it heralds the end of another year and brings another birthday ‘celebration’ closer.

Once upon a time I looked forward to the final third of the year with real enthusiasm.

I mean, what was not to like?

October brought Halloween and the chance to scoop out a turnip, dress up in some kind of scary costume and hit the streets banging on the doors of neighbours demanding ‘trick or treat?’ – I always found that a nice little earner.

November was all about grabbing your dad’s old trousers and jacket, filling them full of newspaper, throwing the resultant effigy of Guy Fawkes into a bogie and going around the same doors demanding ‘Penny for the Guy mister?’ – more cash for sweeties and fireworks – and on November 5 itself we’d head for the nearest available open space, build a bonfire from any spare fencing that might be lying around, light it up, set off our bangers and scare every cat and dog for miles out of their wits.

Then it was December and Christmas and sledging and snowmen and skating on the Lido and presents under the tree to unwrap and enjoy.

Now all I can see is the start of another month looming which will be followed by another month and another one after that.