I don’t want to talk about the weather anymore. It is depressing.
Yesterday Domino and I had a bracing walk on the Downs. When the clouds hem you in and you feel claustrophobic at ground level, you need to get up high, as if you were the sun looking down.

It helps raise the spirits. Even if you look a shocker afterwards. It does nothing for the beauty stakes.

When the weather is bad on the Downs, I end up looking as if I have been put through a washing machine – and then the tumble dryer to boot.

I have a friend Matilda. She would kill me if I wrote too much about her. She is 100% PRIVATE. But I talk to her every day. Sometimes we talk about important things, and sometimes it is as mundane as what we ate for breakfast or if we can face washing our hair.

Matilda once rang when I was on walking on the Downs. It was bright sunshine at the start and then a front came in from the Solent. Matilda was no doubt sitting comfortably, curled up on her velvet sofa, in her stylish flat in Chelsea – while I was being hailed upon, rained upon and then the sun finally shone again upon me. When I saw myself in the rear view mirror of the car, my hair had blown all to one side and was glued stiffly to my skull. Like a bald man’s comb over, the one where he grows one side of his hair long so that it can be glued across his bald patch with hair cream. A well- known shocker. What a contrast between the Sandra that left the Old Rectory and the one that returned home.

This reminded me of the time that I did a photo shoot with a group of women for the Christmas edition for Women and Home a few years ago. The idea was that they would recreate a well-known supermodel photo shoot, but substitute real women instead– LIKE ME. I parked the car in a local parking station, handing the keys over to the attendant. He barely glanced at me. I had no makeup on. My hair was messy. I looked tired.

After hours of pampering, including: inserting false eyelashes; having my hair and nails done; expert makeup applied; dressed in designer clothes and jewellery and frankly transformed, the photo shoot began. It was a lot of fun. When I went back to collect the car, back in my own clothes, but still with the hair and face made up, the parking attendant’s attitude had transformed too. From indifference to admiration.

I had to drop in to see Matilda on the way home and her son later commented, “Sandra’s very glamorous, isn’t she?” The truth is I am not, particularly, most of the time. Of course, I know how to look the part. But it takes time and effort, especially now that I am older. The truth is that the photo you see, that pops up at the top of the diary each day, was taken by the photographer, Lizzie, at the shoot. She took a few for me and gave them to me on a disc. As I am typing this I have no makeup on and my hair is in a pony-tail, as I am about to get windswept again walking Domino.

Today I am having lunch with Flamenco and another Spanish friend, Mrs Vigo, as she is from Vigo, the largest exporter of seafood in Spain (NE coast). We are at the Bluebird on Kings Road, Chelsea. They are always glamorous, so I will have to make an effort. Put on my glad rags.