The painters are here this morning starting to paint the outside of our farmhouse. As I write this there are scraping and rubbing noises from the bay windows at the front of the house. Getting showered (keep the blinds drawn) and getting dressed was a matter of darting from room to room, hoping I had chosen the right room to avoid detection. Believe me, at my age, my body is not a pretty sight. (the days when I would happily take my clothes off and pose for someone to draw me are long gone - although I do believe some painters like painting old women).
Age takes it toll, doesn;t it? I was at a Preview of an Art Exhibition last night with friend W. I met and chatted to an old friend who I have not seen for twenty-odd years - how she had aged and become infirm. It struck me forcibly that she was probably thinking exactly the same about me. When we look in the mirror we see the same person we have seen since the day we were born. Others only see the person as he/she is today - that's the big difference. None of us can avoid old age - the best thing to do is to embrace it, grit one's teeth and jolly well keep going. After all, as someone once said, the alternative to old age is worse.
Well, it's the big day today. I was about to write that after today it will all die down, but of course it will be at least a week before things on the news get back to 'normal' - then there will be some conflict somewhere which will be designed to catch our attention. Meanwhile thousands, if not millions, languish in appalling refugee camps around the area with no prospect of return. Whole generations of children will grow up without allegiance to a country and with a hatred of the people who have driven them out. It makes the business of an independent Scotland seem very small fry doesn't it?