Strange things have been happening lately and it has me taking a good look at myself.
Babies of the complete stranger kind have been leaving their mothers to come to me.
Just yesterday a small boy of about seven with his mother in a shop looked up at me and wanted to tell me all about his teeth and then he fell silent and laid his head on my belly and gave me the most beautiful quiet embrace. It shocked his mother and left me feeling a bit bewildered....
but then I smiled as it dawned on me how children must see me.
I'm sure I remind them of "grandparents".
In my mind's eye, I still have rich cascading chestnut hair, but children see me as I am all snowy white.
For children, white represents "grandparent" and the natural association most of the time is a good one.
I've spoken about age before and now I am realising a new boon about aging, some parts of it are wonderful. I regret that my eyesight is failing and some sewing tasks must simply wait till daytime now; I feel my joints stiffen,
but I do not regret my natural hair,
not grey but rather stardust....
(For those of you who don't know what I look like I have just been into the bathroom and taken the obligatory selfie for you; a la naturale, sweat top and no make-up.)