“Six feet”, I say to anyone who asks. This week my height was officially measured as “a whisker over six feet”. I came in at 1.84 metres (=72.4409449 inches) so that whisker is actually 0.4409449 of an inch, or near as dammit half an inch. Am I growing taller rather than shrinking, as would be the norm at my age?
I spend a lot of time in bookshops, and being tall means I can reach the books on the top shelf but struggle with the books on the bottom shelf. There’s a small bookshop in Scarborough where not only is the bottom shelf at ground level but the books are at the back of the shelf rather than displayed more to the front. Hopeless – I don’t bother with the bottom shelf in this bookshop.
Being tall, cooker hoods are a hazard. Also, tree branches overhanging the pavement, and beams in old pubs. We don’t have a cooker hood, so I’m not expecting one when we stay in holiday flats or cottages, and inevitably I get another forehead wound. Sadly I don’t get many opportunities to avoid beams in old pubs.
With this extra half an inch I’m going to have to be even more careful!