It’s best to sit down... with so much to read

OK, reality check: my allotted time of three score years and ten, as per Psalms 90, has not arrived yet.

But, not long ago, I became a Sixtysomething.

There are many pluses to becoming 60 - but there are probably just as many things in the minus column.

For example, there’s the bus pass.

Originally set up by the Welsh Government and now run under the Transport for Wales (TFW) umbrella, this ‘plus’ is a real treat.

And, for a while, I made the most of it - until, that is, coronavirus arrived and turned getting on a bus into a game of ‘Covid-19 Dare’ for the Over-60s.

My guess is that every possible precaution is taken by the bus companies to keep transport Covid-free. But, at my age, I’d rather not risk it.

By the way, the story is that Welsh Government plans to scrap the bus pass at some stage, so here’s a top tip for my fellow Sixtysomethings - apply now and get yours before the guillotine comes down.

There’s something about getting on a bus and not paying that brings back memories of being a rebel teenager.

And, another major plus, in the winter months, you get a free ride on the scenic Heart of Wales railway line from Swansea to Shrewsbury - when it’s operational, of course, train derailments allowing!

Turning 60 can be an exciting experience.

There’s the surprise party (which you can’t have at the moment because of Covid), the presents (if you’re lucky) and the cards and letters.

The postman wasn’t exactly overloaded when he delivered my bundle come 60.

But my cards and letters did include one surprise package in a very official-looking envelope.

Early recognition in the Queen’s Honours list? I wondered.

But, no, it was from our excellent Welsh NHS - and contained a bowel cancer screening kit.

Tempting as it is to resort to toilet humour, this arrival had a serious side. It’s not something we like to talk about, but getting yourself screened for bowel cancer is well worth you making the effort, so to speak.

The process may not be very elegant - let’s face it, lots of things that are good for you don’t have artistic merit.

It reminded me of the time when I was a teenager backpacker touring Europe and that very first encounter with a rustic French squat toilet.

There are all sorts of complications regarding what position to assume, questions of balance and problems with location of hands.

The NHS pack comes with all sorts of useful advice on how to accomplish the mission - you may need to sit down to read it in detail.

Handy hints include using a plastic bag, a glove (rubber, I guess, not woollen) and clingfilm. I went for a large ‘empty’ tub of Ben and Jerry’s - on the grounds that I am not a fan of American ice-cream. (Give me a Joe’s any day of the week).

Once you’ve sorted out the mechanics of it all, it all seems to work a treat. Just one tip. Consider some careful planning in the food consumption department before attempting the exercise. Anything upwards of a Dhansak on the curry scale is never a good idea.

In these days of coronavirus lockdown, the challenge of a home bowel screening test is about as much excitement as you are going to get in the average week. And, if that doesn’t cheer you up, then you always have the daily postal delivery to look forward to!

On that subj ject, the other th thing you will no notice come Sixtysomething is that your unsolicited and junk mail takes on a different tone.

Letters and pamphlets on Eurocamping, Bungee Jumping and Zipwires are replaced by things more in line with a Saga lifestyle.

This week’s offerings included special offers on rise and recline chairs and adjustable beds, with the pièce de résistance being provided by my local (and very friendly) funeral director, who kindly sent me the latest on bespoke funeral plans.

Pamphlets, leaflets, letters . . . there’s always something to read.

Time to sit down and study them all, I reckon.

If you need me, I’ll be in the smallest room in the house!