Wednesday, 5 January 2011

There is only one cure for grey hair. It was invented by a Frenchman. It is called the guillotine.

Well, I'm here to tell you that P.G. Wodehouse was WRONG.

No more bad hair days for ME. I'm off to see the lovely Caroline at 'Now' in Uckfield and she will make me look good and feel good, as if by magic. I'm going a bit bluer. More blue than purple instead of more purple than blue. Not all over. "Today, I'm going to record my hair. Tonight, I'm going to watch the highlights." (Somebody called Jay Somebody said that first)

I gave Alfie a haircut today, obviously in the hair-chopping mode, me. Alfie is my boy horse. He has a beautiful, long, thick black tail. Trouble is, it's SO long it trails on the ground. Yesterday, he had what I call 'mudlocks.' The bottom six inches were formed into beads made of mud so he actually rattled as he moved, like a wind-chime.

Perhaps I should suggest it to Caroline?

Maybe not.