Driving Miss Betty

The thing about driving modern cars is that, when you go round a corner and you hear a clonk, you don't have to stop to check what has dropped off. (Nothing had.) However I consider the extraordinary a perk of driving a Beetle. You never know what will happen next. A trip to the supermarket can be as exciting as a trip to Le Mans. As long as you have your rescue card with you and comparatively easy access to a phone. (Not always as simple as it sounds when you refuse to own a mobile phone for fear it will adversely affect your brain workings.)

I managed to find a top to wear to a wedding next month. I tried to be adventurous and buy a different colour from those I usually wear but it didn't work. Although it probably didn't help that I can't dress myself properly. I tried on one of these see-through-over-a-cami top and was grumbling because it was too tight. Then I discovered I had my arm in the wrong hole.

I was also deterred by the mirror that insisted on showing me my badgered hair. And, because we are economising I cannot go to the hairdresser until just before the wedding. It could be too late by then: my transformation to badger will already be complete. Will anyone notice, I wonder? Should there be a question mark after that or not?