It has just dawned on me, I am – well, many of us – are going to be unrecognisable at the end of this!  Firstly, the enforced sedentary lifestyle is going to ensure we are all enormous and, secondly, the hair!  The hair!!!  The little, everyday things one takes for granted.  My hair grows like wild fire.  Always has, always will.  Over the years, that has proved both a gift and a curse.  A gift for those times when it just didn’t turn out as you’d planned; a curse when you go to bed one night thinking, for once, your hair actually looks quite good only to waken up and find, not only is it sticking out at right angles but, somehow, it has grown a couple of inches!!  How many times have I wished that I could just take it off and put it on a stand, all set to pop back on the next day?  Honestly!  That’s nearly 200 words on my hair and my entire quota of exclamation marks.  This enforced social distancing is unleashing the inner demon of trivia …

Hang on, I haven’t finished.  If this enforced inertia continues for weeks and months, I will end up looking like my sister who is, actually, only two years older than me but was, once, mistaken for my mother before she decided to forego the dye and let it all go grey – or white!  She could make a fortune in promoting the reasons for colouring one’s hair in one’s advancing years, not least because it’s a hundred times more effective than plastic surgery!  Thankfully, my hair has only succumbed to grey at the sides and underneath but the two-tone look is not my thing and I can see from the roots how dark it once was – help!  Make friends with your hairdresser?  Been my friends for years.  I was all of 22 when I first went to Jardinework and these guys could write my life story without prompting.  Have faith.

It has been a strange day.  Aren’t they all, now?  Still, the weather has, again, been spring-like.  The daffodils are popping up everywhere, the birds are busy building their nests and the wind is no longer biting.  I planned to go to the beach, as always, but, somehow, never got there today.  Conscious that I should venture into the abyss to forage for supplies, I put it off as long as possible and then hit Marks & Spencer – with my latex gloves and a scarf over my face!  Taking no chances.  Unfortunately, there were other cars in the car park but the shop was relatively empty.  That said, I hated every minute of it but ended up spending a fortune – the batteries and wine didn’t help but …  Manny appeared, here, with a Yamaha keyboard, on which he is learning to play the piano, but forgot to bring the cable.  Always equipped with batteries, he seconded my supply and I cannot do without my radio in the bathroom.  Tuned, permanently, to Radio 2, Becca insists on changing it to Forth One and, quite frankly, that pushes me over the edge!

Anyway, before getting into my car, I had had a chat with an elderly neighbour who was having a Sainsbury home delivery.  He did mention, however, that they had been unable to source their wine – or an alternative – and, while I sympathised, I, stupidly, failed to ask him their preference.  So … on returning with three bottles, I decided to ring their doorbell and offer them one of my Viogniers!  Gratefully received, I would hope someone would do the same for me.

Manny is on self-appointed chef duty, here, but likes to eat early while Becca and I prefer to eat later.  No contest, then.  Which brings me to my next two dinner party guests …  In need of another female to balance things, it is actually quite difficult.  Off the top of my head – adhering to the same criteria for my selection thus far – it would be a toss-up between Miriam Margolyes and Joanna Lumley!  Could they be any more different?!  I love Miriam Margolyes for her spirit.  Intelligent and educated – she read English at Cambridge – she is, at once, self-deprecating and unconstrained but, perhaps, a little too unrefined.  In a world increasingly devoid of manners, let alone etiquette, I crave both.  Thus, Joanna Lumley it is!  The perfect addition to my table of sarcastic old codgers – sorry, Graham – and Judi Dench, she has seen and done it all – with bells on!  She can even make sandals out of an old bra, for goodness sake!

Eight guests, now, including myself.  Another female?  So much easier to choose a guy.  Telling.  My heroine, since childhood, has been Virginia Mckenna and that she will always remain.  However, meeting her in 1989, she became my friend and so much more.  I love her to bits and, a very private person, I would never share her!  Beautiful, inside and out, her talent abounds but, for the last thirty-six years, she has devoted her life to the protection of wild animals; the bid to end their captivity for human entertainment, rather ensuring their conservation in their natural habitat.  I am in awe.  Kind, genuine and humble to a fault, she, somehow, finds the time to pen letters and cards – in the most beautiful handwriting – and they are among my most treasured possessions.

So, I would not subject Ginny to this dinner party but I need another female guest and, funnily enough, it just came to me – Sally Field!  Manny – not a reader – picked a book from my shelves yesterday: a Robin Williams biography.  I haven’t read it yet but, flicking through its pages, it is extremely inviting.  Anyway, made me think of his sidekick in Mrs Doubtfire and I have always liked her.  Not often interviewed, she was a guest on Graham Norton, last year, and she was just as one might hope.  Yes.  Sally Field, it is!

I cannot believe I have written almost one thousand words!  These daily posts were supposed to be short, sharp bursts but …  I might have mentioned that, throughout my life, my letters have warranted parcel post!  Never short of something to say, that’s me.  Wait until I start reading my posts and uploading – so there’s no excuse – then, there’s the imminent podcast.  Positively, so much to look forward to – or, to which to look forward!

The creative adult is the child who has survived.’    Anonymous.

The above I found on the opening page of the Robin Williams biography.  Somehow, I anticipate many more of the same pertaining to the genius that was.

Until tomorrow …

This is Trish, signing off.