I don't have much contact with people any more...

Since I never leave the house...

But first thing in the morning I see my tobacconist, just when she opens.

We've talked about lots of things. Cooking, of course. I just gave her one of my favourite recipes today... for the first time.

But generally, what's goin' on, and general things...

I don't know HOW we got on the subject, but she said she had stopped dying her hair, because she has a condition where her hair would fall out if she continued.

HER hair is grey for about four months now.

And I didn't put my foot in it. I said it suited her, and I didn't think that dying one's hair did any good whatever, it never suits one's teint... mostly..

And yeah, I dyed my hair... twice... I looked like a ghost. Da Ven... well I don't even want to think about Grecian Formula.. His is now fine as it is, full and lovely.

And I said if the cut is good, women with grey hair can look damned elegant. And it was true, I do think that.

And then we had a 'moment'. When someone confides something to you about their life.

When she was young, she wanted to dye her hair, and wear pants, and her parents were very conservative... the lady is now about sixty. And when she went into apprentenceship, the first thing she did with her pay was get her hair dyed and get some kick-ass pants. And I said, 'oooo.... Rebel!'

And laughed. So I told her my 'rebellion' story.

In the Fifties, men and young boys had pants that were cut so wide, you could put helium up them and just blow away. That WIIIIDE... And 'pegged pants' came out. And I was always unhappy with the flappy floppy ones I had... With my first money, I bought a pair, earned it running errands.

So I went to my beloved cousin's all proud that I'd earned and bought it for myself... I used to take care of her kids, she was from New Yawwk so was 'hip', you see. And I went into another room and changed, and came out... and my Mom was there.

If you wanna see pursed lips of disapproval, you have to go to New England, believe me.

And I asked, 'Whaddaya think?' Very pleased with myself.

And my Mom said, 'You're not going out like that!.'

'Why?'

'Because you can see everything... even the crack!' She meant my tush.

And then came the classic 'Go to your room and change.'

So I said today, 'Y'see? Different cultures... but basically the same.' And she laughed.

And that last line became a signature anytime anyone of us was getting ready to go somewhere, and I'd tell Peter... 'Hey! Go to your room and change!' If it wasn't appropriate. And he'd give it to me occasionally.. It never died out. So I passed it on.

I don't see people much any more. But sometimes you connect, and it's nice.