The main problem was that, this morning, I awoke with sore eyes. They were sore and red around the rims – it looked like conjunctivitis – so I popped some special treatment cream in both eyes and I reckoned that I should give make-up a miss (how rash, as it turned out). After my shower I was looking in the mirror; I had my glasses on, unusually for me (another wrong move) and I wondered to myself…

“If I’m going to have a make-up-free day I might aswell go the whole hog and put some Perrin’s Blend on my sun spots (which I noticed because I had my glasses on). If I keep away from the top of our steps (by the road) nobody will even see me…”

And so it was that I gave myself an ugly day. Now you may remember from an earlier blog that Perrin’s Blend, which is made by Mrs Perrin in Tennessee, is a marvellous cure for moles and sun-spots (two small moles gone forever just a few weeks ago!); however, the trouble with Perrin’s Blend is that it looks like blood and you have to keep it on for at least a whole day, sometimes longer! Chris and I were working together, painting the railings on our steps (of which there are many), but I didn’t mind Chris seeing me – he’s used to it.

In the late afternoon my friend, Catherine, who lives at number seven, appeared at the top of her steps and looked over to where I was painting the spindles on our bridge.

“Sorry Catherine, it’s not blood on my face – just Perrin’s Blend for my sun spots,” I called out.

“I can’t see anything wrong from here. I haven’t got my glasses on,” Catherine laughed.

That was a relief. Then I wished I hadn’t drawn attention to the fact that I had any sun spots.

Later still, when I had finished my painting for the day, and the sky had turned grey with rain clouds, I thought I had better run up to the top of the steps with sheets of plastic to protect the not-quite-dry paintwork on the railings where Chris had been busy a little earlier. I was bending down, putting weights on the corners of a plastic sheet, which I’d spread over the railings directly behind our front gate, when someone came up to the gate.

“Excuse me,” said a male voice in a manner that told me he wanted my full attention.

For a moment I wondered if I could get away with holding a conversation without turning around; better still, I considered feigning getting trapped under the old plastic tablecloth… but there wasn’t any wind and, anyway, the big road cones I had used for weights were rather obvious. No, there was no way out, I had to show my face.

“Don’t worry, it’s not blood,” I said, bobbing up to standing position and giving him a lovely smile (hopefully).

Initially somewhat surprised, the man recoiled ( obviously, he had sight better than Catherine).

“It’s just a bit of Perrin’s Blend for my sun spots,” I assured, “didn’t think I’d meet anyone today.”

“Well I just wanted to ask if this is Sea Lawn Terrace,” said the man, also smiling (now he knew it wasn’t blood).

He chatted to me for a minute or so before taking his leave (probably so as not to offend) and he ended by saying:

“Well, no pain, no gain. good luck with the Perrin’s Blend!”

“Today Quasimodo, tomorrow Madonna!” I said with bravado. (What a good mantra!)

And I went back inside to scrub all the blue paint off my arms and legs. Naturally, I took off my shorts to make a thorough job of it and I didn’t bother to put my shorts back on when I was finished. After our slimmers’ dinners (we are both dieting – just on different diets because Chris is contrary) I left the table to go to the sink and I was aware that Chris’s eyes were watching me – my top didn’t quite cover my bottom.

“I really like the Emperor’s wife’s new skirt!” he said lasciviously.

I wiggled my bottom and almost forgot that I was having an ugly day.