Getting older

 

“They must think I know nothing.”

I was in the hairdresser’s having my hair cut yesterday. As I have grown older my hair has gone more and more unruly. When I leave, I will look quite respectable but as soon as I wash it all the good work has gone. It does its own thing again and flies away.

“It’s as if I haven’t learnt a thing or two as I have grown older.”

This woman was about my age, but her hair looked immaculate even before she had it cut and styled. I do not know how some people do it.

“They must think we are stupid,” she persisted.

I thought at first, she was talking about our MPs, but no, she was talking about her children. She was going to a wedding in London and they had asked her if she could manage the journey. She said that she had worked in London for most of her life and of course, knew her way around.

She had quite a lot of treatments on her hair with silver paper and a guided heater. She looked beautiful of course.

Afterwards, I had to go to the hospital for a guided injection. I almost wished that I had my mother’s hairnet to keep my style intact. I had to lie on a special bed with my face through a hole at the top. I did not like it. But talking afterwards to my beauty-conscious sister she had no sympathy as she when she goes for a relaxing massage, she has her face through a hole at the head end of the bed. She liked it, I suppose it depends on what you are having done.

Mr T and I went for a meal when my hair was still looking good. We were in tasteful surroundings near a window with views of the Shropshire hills and, lulled into contentment with soothing music, we ordered the three-course meal. We never have three courses, especially at lunch time, what were we thinking of? 

I was full after the delicious soup and spiced bread rolls, but determinedly ploughed on with coq-au-vin and then pavlova. I will order less next time. When we finally left, I wondered if people still give tips and how do they do this if they do not carry cash? No need to wonder for long the restaurant was ahead of me, there was a service charge added to the bill.

Back home the robin is feeding his young in the sunshine. His meal is a simpler procedure than ours. He waits in the shadows then in a flash darts to an insect-covered sunny flower and helps himself.

(Taken from my column in the Shropshire Star)