
Generally, numbers mean very little to me. I have never been good at Maths, I didn’t get my GCSE until I was in my 40s, and I don’t seem to be able to remember numbers. I’ve had the same phone number for, at least, 15 years and I still don’t know what it is – cut to the common scene of me fumbling with my phone, trying to get to “me” on my contacts, whilst some kind of assistant is breaking a sweat in an effort not to roll their eyes or tut at me.
Then, I was reading an article which said their are 54 countries in Africa, which seems a lot, so I checked and there is. I won’t list them. Do you’re own checking. Oh, and there are 54 countries in the Common Wealth, apparently.
Next, I found there are 54 species of mustelids, which is my favourite family of mammals (mainly because they’re just funny), and includes the weasel, which the Bible tells us not to eat; the honey badger, which is one of the feistiest of all the mustelids (the wolverine is tougher but that’s probably because of the adamantium); and, the Japanese Badger, which may or may not be a shape-shifter depending on your mythological preferences.
There are 54 cards in a deck of playing cards if you include the Jokers, which seems a bit cheaty to me, and there are 54 coloured squares on a Rubik’s Cube (which I can do. Over a long weekend. With a constipated expression on my face and a wet cloth on my brow).
There are 54 articles in the UN Convention on the Rights of the Child (UNCRC), which a lot more people need to pay attention to. Come on, People!
And finally, the M54, also known as the Telford Dual Carriageway, is 23 miles long and a spur of the M6. I have never driven on it.

This blog contains 27 lines of text. Which is half of 54. Numbers eh?
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