Today I had my hair cut at the shop I've been going to since I started working in Farnborough and stopped asking my girlfriend to cut my hair. Though she did a good job, it was too much effort to clean up after it. So it was farewell to the two ladies who have serviced my head for me. I got them a box of chocolates. I've been aware that I've never tipped in my time as their customer, so a goodbye gift was the least I could do. Well, not the least, but you know what I mean.

Coincidentally it was my 100th visit to the place. This is not true. I've been going there just less than weekly for about 18 months. It's more likely to have been my 63rd visit. I don't know. It's silly that we would attribute a significance to the 100th and not, say, the 61st. In short every visit is uniquely important. Today's because it was the last.

The hairs keep growing. I shall have to find an alternative venue for trimmage. My next appointment is in Edinburgh with the barber I use there. It will be my 100th visit to them. In about 50 years' time.