Half Way to Ninety...

I had a birthday this week. I'm now officially, as my brother put it, half way to 90. Does that make me middle-aged? How about if I live to 98, as my oldest grandmother did? Or maybe 100, as Richard's oldest grandmother did? Should I wait another four or five years before I decide to be middle-aged? Not that I plan to be like one of those Agatha Christie 'women in their forties', who always seem rather sad with their 'sensible' shoes and tweedy skirts and cardigans. It's jeans and trainers for me for a while yet. Indeed I'll probably still dress this way when I'm 90 or more. I can't see any reason not to, unless of course I become too arthritic to get into jeans easily.