I went to a Neighbourhood Partnership meeting today. It was themed around older people's services, on account of 99.9% of the population of the South of Edinburgh being over 65. They migrate there because it's higher up and they are afraid of climate change. Or something.
Anyway, there I met an eighty year old woman who was supremely chirpy - chirpier than I find it physically possible to be now even when I'm in a great mood, so I doubt I'll be there by 80 - and another older person who was phenomenally pissed off with the fact that despite her 54 years in a local community centre and her MBE, her organisation keeps being roundly ignored by everyone (including all the speechifiers at the meeting). I'm more likely to be her in the future, bar the MBE, not least because one of her defining features was the tableful of knitting she was attempting to sell to raise funds for her project. A particular highlight was a truly awful salmon-coloured cushion cover with lace trim. Sadly I didn't have a camera on me, but rest assured I'll be firing off hundreds of those bad boys when I retire.