In my younger days I used to look upon getting older as something taboo, no, I did not want to go down that route.   I was convinced it would take years for me to get to the end of that route where my locks would have turned grey, white or whatever, and I would be plodding around in flat granny shoes (as I termed them).  Then suddenly I was no longer twenty, I was thirty and so on until I finally admitted at sixty five my youth was well and truly behind me.   It was a bit…