Off to the hairdressers soon. He has a new gadget thingy that will obliterate my grey hairs, although I'm warned it will be an uphill struggle. But what I really want to know is: "When did I agree to this getting older thing?" I'm sure no-one asked me if I was ready for it.
As well as failing eyesight, hearing, dodgy knees and now the dreaded grey highlights, me memory seems to be deserting me too.

What is happening? I have never agreed it was time to become old. In my head I'm still 18, but sadly not in the mirror. I worry about looking
like mutton dressed as lamb, but actually can barely achieve mutton dressed as mutton.

Was absolutely horrified to watch a member of the nursing staff at
Withybush hospital exit the loos without washing her hands recently.
Hasn't she heard of MRSA? It's a tough enough job getting vistors to
avoid carrying bugs onto wards, one had hoped the nursing staff were
little more careful.