Getting older is no problem. You just have to live long enough, says Groucho - Fiona Duff

My dentist is one of the chattiest people I know. She blathers away knowing that I can’t interrupt her while my mouth is wide open.

It is obviously a good job for someone who likes to hold the conversation completely in their own hands.

I also used to quite like driving; a trip up from London to see the family wasn’t really something I dreaded. These days I find it gets me in a bit of a panic.

I think any other car at a junction is going to shoot out and crash into me. And don’t get me started about driving in the dark or on the motorway when it is raining.

If I won the Lottery, I would employ a driver as soon as possible.

When I was younger I used to have a pony and would gallop about jumping over hedges and felt free and in control.

More recently a friend persuaded me to go riding with her and as soon as I was in the saddle I got vertigo (it really wasn’t that big a horse) and couldn’t go faster than a trot for fear of tumbling off and cracking my head.

In the old days that was just collateral damage – I have stitches all over my head to prove it. Mind you, there are some who might sway that that explains a lot.

Ho hum, I suppose it’s all just part of getting older, like having to wear glasses to read a menu or having the TV volume at full blast when watching anything (it will be subtitles next).

Mind you, worst of all is looking in the mirror in the morning and it’s hard to brush your teeth with eyes closed.