I have just spent an evening at a housegroup social, at the end of which I now feel officially ill-informed, dangerously undereducated, ridiculously poorly read and frightfully young. I think the high point in my conversation was pointing out that although "another piece slotted into life's rich tapestry" may indeed sound more poetic than "another piece slotted into life's grand jigsaw puzzle" you can't in fact slot pieces into tapestries. Or not easily.
With conversation ranging from Ancient Mesapotamia through WW2 to Uganda pre-Idi Amin, people arguing over the best way to drive from Nairobi to Tanzania, reviews of Morpurgo's War House and assorted Christian Literature, conversations starting with various books and leading to the converser's personal acquaintance with the author (or subject) of the book, all I had to do was sit back and sip my tea. Refreshing.
I wonder if I'll be as well-informed and generally interesting to listen to when my own children are my age? Probably not if I don't make a start now. But hmm, locate a copy of The Wild Gospel, or have another round of Bejewelled?