Been a funny old day. Went to the dentist, walking back to the car there was an old bloke working in his garden. I was having a nosy at his plants and shrubs and he nodded and gave me an, 'Ow do.'

Twenty minutes later I'm still there talking about the best place to plant an acer and how I should have seen his roses two weeks ago when they were in bloom.

I reckon he was in his mid 80s, used to be a tiler. He's struggling with his garden now, too much for him. He had a fall four years ago, smashed his head on the bannister. He'd been taking his trousers off to get changed, 'How pissing embarrassing is that??!'

He had a proper old Leeds accent. Used to meet up with his old workmates when they'd all retired, once a month for a few pints in Leeds. All gone now, he's the only one left and his missus isn't in great health apparently.

I said I struggled to grow an acer. Maybe the wrong soil or position. I complemented him on his garden, it looked lovely if a little old fashioned. He'd planted
that conifer when it was 'that high' - placing one hand a few inches above the other, forty years ago. It was now about 20 feet tall and half as wide. He'd planted a tiny holly shrub a few weeks back. ''I won't be around to see it mature but someone will I suppose.'

We said our goodbyes and I pointed to the acer and gave him a thumbs up as I walked off and he shouted after me, 'Just keep trying, that's all you can do. Keep going, keep trying lad.'
'Thanks, I will, I'll move it when I get home.' And I realised he probably wasn't talking about the tree.

Driving home from Asda - milk bread, grapes, yoghurt - I saw an old lady fall, twenty yards in front. I pulled up and a couple of other people jogged over too. Tiny little lady with a shopping trolley. Her lip was all bust up, she'd smashed her wrist too, it was pointing the wrong way, swollen and cut. Clean break I'd wager.

Her name was Audrey, 87, coming back from visiting her brother who'd just come out of hospital. I got her sat in the car - there's no-one to call she said. She found a diary and gave me that, I asked her who Yvonne was, first name I came to. She said it was her cousin. I rang her, it was her niece. Ten minutes later she arrives and can't thank me enough. We transfer her from one car to another, she can't be any more than 4 foot 8.

I'll text Yvonne tomorrow.

I've seen the future today. Blimey. Do what you can, while you can because getting old looks a bit grim.