I played some silly Q&;A game to see how old I would be when I die- 2050 in LA undergoing surgery. To little to late for me.
I have to spend the day with the mad sister tomorrow - her treat to a fabulous Christmas fair on an old US airbase. Great but I have no money. Not completely true - I have £4.75. I suspect the coffee will come to that. Then on Thursday up to London to get the new passport - cost £127 - which I haven't got unless I sell this. And then Canada thanks to darling Gail.
Why oh why is it all so bloody hard - it is like walking through treacle in wellie boots. sticky and gummy with every pace.
I've gone on too long and I'm boring you . God knows I am boring myself.
Back to more of the nostalgia and less of the neurosis tomorrow - bet your bottom dollar. I'm thinking purple at a hundred and five will be very, very cool.
Warning - When I Am an Old Woman I Shall Wear Purple
By Jenny Joseph
When I am an old woman, I shall wear purple
with a red hat that doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
and satin candles, and say we've no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I am tired
and gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
and run my stick along the public railings
and make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
and pick the flowers in other people's gardens
and learn to spit.
You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
and eat three pounds of sausages at a go
or only bread and pickles for a week
and hoard pens and pencils and beer nuts and things in boxes.
But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
and pay our rent and not swear in the street
and set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.
But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.
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