I just celebrated my 61st birthday. I didn't tell Ron because I didn't want him to ask me my age in case maybe he's younger. Silly little vanities we cling to. As the saying goes: "No fool like an old fool!"

The masseuse paid me a compliment by saying that my body had wonderful firmness and tone, unusual in someone my age.

My kids didn't forget me though and went a bit overboard. Peter gave me a watch, which I really needed as my old one was unreliable. I guess I must have mentioned that it was losing five minutes every hour. Vanessa must have had a pang of conscience about our unpleasant 'phone conversation last week, because she gave me what's called "A Make-Over Day." There's a Beauty Institute in town, and you can spend a whole day just being pampered; a massage, a manicure, a facial, a new hair-do and a so-called "slimming lunch." It costs a fortune and I would never have indulged myself, but it was a generous and thoughtful present. I know there will be many problems with my kids if my romance proceeds as I hope it will, but I've deliberately put these concerns on the back-burner for now.

I chose to go to the Beauty Institute on Tuesday and truly enjoyed it. The masseuse paid me a compliment by saying that my body had wonderful firmness and tone, unusual in someone my age. The manicurist not only shaped and painted my nails, but also rubbed cream into my hands and advised me always to wear gloves while gardening. The facial was heaven - I almost fell asleep as the beauty therapist gently stroked my face, cleansing, moisturizing and nourishing the skin until it looked and felt like satin. She applied make-up so discreetly and expertly that I looked years younger, and the flattering new haircut and style made me feel unbelievably glamorous.

I have never, in my whole life, been a jealous woman so I can't explainthe unreasonable feelings that washed over me.

When it was over, I decided it would be such a waste just to go home, so on an impulse decided to drop in on Ron. Only he wasn't there. On the way, I saw his car parked outside someone's house and I knew it didn't belong to anyone in the Gardening Club as we'd all exchanged addresses.

I have never, in my whole life, been a jealous woman so I can't explain the unreasonable feelings that washed over me. I was even tempted to park down the street and watch to see when he came out and who with. Of course I didn't but I argued with myself all the way home. It could be a relative; a married couple; a former business colleague. It didn't have to be a woman. But the suspicion continued nagging at me, undoing the benefit of my lovely relaxing day.

I tried reasoning with myself. After all, he was a free man. We had never actually used the word "commitment" and had known each other a few, short months. Perhaps I read a lot more into the relationship than he did. Maybe he dated lots of women. Maybe he was divorced because he was a phiilanderer. And maybe I was "counting my chickens before they were hatched", dreaming of a courtship, a proposal, a marriage. Maybe he'd be horrified at how seriously I had
taken his attentions which could be just a mild flirtation as far as he
was concerned.

Perhaps I read a lot more into the relationship thanhe did. Maybe he dated lots of women. Maybe hewas divorced because he was a philanderer.

I called Vanessa to thank her for the wonderful gift and tried to make my voice sound happy. A few hours later, I couldn't resist calling his home, but the phone just rang and rang until the answering machine took over. I didn't leave a message. What I did was write a poem, the first one since I was a teenager almost 50 years ago. I called it "Early Days":

When you touched my hand I was uncertain.
What did you mean to say?
That you were my friend,
to depend on you ,
Is that what you tried to convey?

Or was there something more I felt?
More pressure to the touch,
That held a hint, a promise
That we might amount to much?

Too early yet to know, perhaps,
It's been so short a time.
Are we destined for great poetry,
Or merely just a rhyme?

Yet I feel a certain chemistry,
A message my heart sends.
Wildly I begin to hope,
We MAY be more than friends!

I had a little cry then in case my expectations were just a fantasy.
Oh, how I would miss Ron from my life if that turned out to be the case!