Wandering the cobbled backstreets of Plymouth hunting down my hair stylist who has swapped salons. Successfully as it happens, and I have had my winter haircut. I feel like a Spring lamb or perhaps more like its mother who has had a woolly winter coat sheared off. Co-incidentally the sun came out as I skipped up this lane with considerably less curls than an hour earlier.

Talking of curls, we have had Miss Lola in our lives for 10 years this week.

A bit like me with a new hair cut she looks a little different this week compared to her first week with us.

She is paler and curlier. Her pale is just paler, mine is greyer. But that is what ten years looks like.