Oh! There you are.

You're looking a bit peaky.

What's the matter old thing?

Well, no, sorry, I know you're not that old,

fifty's the new forty isn't it?

Not much over fifty surely?

No honestly you don't look a day over...

freckles are very enyouthening.

Look I didn't come here to have an argument,

it's just I'm a little concerned about you is all.

Well you seem to have lost some of your old fizz.

You used to be so full of plans and projects.

Yes, I did hear you on the radio actually.

It didn't sound much like you.

Was it fun?

Oh I see.

Well I don't suppose many people were listening at that time of day.

You already told me about your blog.

Does anyone read it?

How do you know?

That's very kind of them.

And the National Trust have taken some of your old toys for an exhibition,

well I'm sure they're very grateful...

but be honest, it was just part of your rather premature downsizing ploy,

foisting them on that poor girl.

Yes, you still go running - that's admirable too.

Will it ever be further than once round the park?

No of course we can't all be Eddie Izzard.

So why the miz viz?

No really, I'm listening, tell me.

Are you ill?

Money worries?

House falling down?

Oh for heaven's sake woman, get a grip.

You must have realised your children were going to grow up.

But it's taken years and years, what do you mean

you didn't know it would go so quickly?

But it's lovely that they're leading such busy happy lives,

Well you could get out more surely.

No need to mope around the place.

Nobody wants a glum chum.

What do you mean you don't know what you're for anymore.

I've never heard such self-pitying drivel.

Treat yourself to a new hat.

That always used to work for women your age.

Or a lipstick!

Oh I forgot, you don't wear make up

or hats.

But seriously, there are some marvellous concealers around now,

they'd knock back those freckles a tad.

Look I'm only trying to help.

You need to move on, shape up, make yourself useful.

You could have another forty years in you.

Ninety is the new eighty you know.

You don't hear Joanna Lumley complaining do you and she's sixty four?

Go and read her book for her sheer joie de vivre,

with a lovely glass of Cloudy Bay Sauvignon Blanc,

no, not a whole bottle,

there's much to be done,

and you are nearly free to do it now

if you'd just learn to let go.

And if all else fails, have you ever considered taking up tap dancing?

Or getting a dog?

OK I'm going now.

I do hope that has helped.