Whiskers

According to Joe.My.God. and Evilganome, beards are in and they are hot. Woof! I’m cresting on this trend, as I seem to have given up shaving since Boxing Day. Hairy Hedgie, that’s me.

Never before in my adult life have I ever grown any facial fuzz (so inhibited was I by parental prohibition) so I feel weirdly rebellious. Striking a blow for freedom for facial follicles.

Alas, yet to achieve the sort of recognition that Joe and Evilganome report, but I can attest that ladies of a certain age seem to find me irresistible. My neighbour squealed with delight when she saw me (she says she likes beards – and come to think about it her husband is fully bearded), and on my way to the Tate in the rain I was picked up by a lost and discombobulated Mittel-European in a fur coat and plastic hairdo-protector who requested my assistance in breaking into the arts college next door. She was under the impression that that was the Tate and was puzzled that it seemed to be locked.

And yes, ok, a handsome young man inside the Tate gave me a lingering look. Woof!