This, of course, comes with the danger that you're taking yourself too seriously and there's nothing worse than that (really, absolutely nothing).
So what to say? I want to tell you that I sailed on the Endeavour for a week and it was the best week of my life and the worst. It was physically hard, mentally hard, cold, wet, rushed, panicked, incomprehensible.
But it was also ridiculously fun, other worldly, companionable, magnificent, irreplaceable, unrepeatable.
For the first time in my life I get this:
There is no static middle ground, really. Who are we kidding? We swing right across the spectrum in everything we do. And I like that. If we didn't, how would we know we're alive?
Time to sign off before you start snorting in derision at me.