Going through the gateway of 70 into my bonus years and beginning my eighth decade. So lucky, every day is now a gift I am happy to unwrap.

So much to reflect on and so much still to discover and learn. Enjoying friendships and the gentler pleasures. One of the great bonuses of being old is the capacity and the freedom to love more. Love more in depth and width, able to tell people that I love them easily and the love is without expectation.

My daughter organised several treats over two weeks to allow for my limited stamina. My first pedicure and manicure – deep shimmering burgundy fingers and sky-blue toenails and lovely soft feet and hands. I spent hours admiring them!

The home hairdresser was so skilled and intuitive, accepting my unkempt lawn of hair – the result of a year of self- trimming with paper scissors – and producing a sharp, characterful cut. The crowning touch she suggested – a temporary pink spray.

My birthday was topped off by a visit from my Polish granddaughter and her boyfriend, bringing me some flowers and the promise of seeking out some outrageous hair colour for me. He suggested some deep turquoise like the little mermaids tail. Can’t wait!

A punk rocker at 70

A lovely visit from my musician friend who is also a talented illustrator, bringing me a copy of the book that goes with his bands’ new CD. Will have to learn to download. The book contains words and artwork which inspired the music. Among them is a story of mine and his illustration of it.

The introduction of the book says the punk rock band, called the Perverts, call their fans the Pervlets. The work in the book is from their supporters/fans. So, as a seventh decade marker, I am an honourary punk rocker.

Hard work reaps rewards

My magic chair has arrived. So comfortable, and after a few days of her comfort, aches and pains that I have lived with for so long have begun to ease and some even vanish. It is so carefully tailored to me, like a bespoke suit, that even my daughter, only a few inches taller, is aware of it being fitted for me.

Every sacrifice was worth it. Now I will have papers, an occasional magazine again, and haircuts.