The epicentre of the Earthquake was in Lincoln, BUT, loads of Londoners felt monsters under their bed, orgres in their wardrobes and, way over in Muswell Hill, saw their plates rattle on the shelves.
5.2 on the Righter scale and I slept through it.
Bushey, in Hertfordshire heard it.
Ware in the World experienced it.
And Chadwell Heath’s inhabitants held onto their hats.
Month: February 2008
Paddington Stare
This morning I did my Tibetan Five.
A series of RITES that are done in the Himalayas by people who live very long lives.
5 simple exercises done 21 times, every day, which are meant to keep you limber and lithe.
Bruce Forsythe does them, and look what he looks like.
No comments please.
Anyway I did my 5 rites, meditated then set off for LBC.
8 weeks in
Cocaine, Lavatories, shoes and cuddling, were our four topics today. I am learning slowly, but surely. LBC’s listeners have an opinion on everything. They test me. I’m having to use parts of my brain that I didn’t even know existed. I was meant to be interviewing Delia Smith but she pulled out, I was meant … Read more
luna eclipse
Oh! the last three days have been a nightmare.
What with the Lunar eclipse, blood sugar levels and tears from the young women in my life to cap it all my telephone went down, the computer stopped working so I’ve been living in the dark ages.
And then today the man from BT came and mended the box outside the flat.
By noon we were back in the land of the living. What did Eloise and Abelard do without their internet?
Cold Comfort Flat
This weekend Jim and I watched ‘CONTROL’ and ‘THIS IS ENGLAND’ in front of a log fire.
Two extremely eloquent British films.
I fell into bed with monochrome mic stands and technicoloured skin- heads running through my head.
When I awoke it was minus 4.
The lawn was covered in thick white frost, the birds were fighting for bird seed and the back window of my car had to be de-iced.
The old man went out to play golf with his acting mate, whether he has his fingers left I will know shortly.
(he has, he says it wasn’t his fingers he was worried about being brass monkey weather and all.)
I bumped into my old nutritionist in the lift at Waitrose.
We talked about bloating, carbs, and linseeds.
The result of that conversation was a basket of seeds, oils and guilt.
I arrived 15 minutes late to the studio, even though the sun was out and its half term for half the population.
30 syllables
Oh what a beautiful morning. Oh what a beautiful day. I’ve had a funny old eeeevnin! I need to just hit the hay! night night
Ivory Glowerers
And so the days turn into night and the heron stands on one leg.
Not haiku poetry, or a portent but the reality of my life.
I get up.
I meditate.
I run.
I wash.
I drive.
I talk for 3 hours.
I drive.
I eat.
I write.
I sleep.
Ah! Fresh bed Lenin
It’s nearly midnight and I have done as much today as a crofter in Orkney does in a week – not that I would know what a crofter does -i’m being metaphorical or is it physical? Anyway after an interminable drive up from Sussex, I arrived at LBC half-an-hour late, due to an incident in … Read more
Hearts and Minds.
I nearly got the programme all right.
I’m absorbing the tweekings, they are being exceedingly patient with me.
Anyway when I got back to the flat, having listened to Donald Fagin on my car stereo, very loud, very latin, I changed into my running gear and went out.
The air was a good smack across the cheek.
Two flocks of birds winging their way over Battersea Bridge actually came together and formed a HEART, not for very long, but just long enough for me to think;
Is it?
Isn’t it?
And it was.
Bloomin’ excellent.
On the way back there was a ‘V’ of geese heading for Chelsea harbour.
Heady stuff
The sun shone in through my bedroom window, it was so bright that you could have been forgiven for thinking it was March.
I meditated, faced East,and felt the weight of too many sweets courtesy of Steve Allen.
I finally managed to discipline myself sufficiently to do 15 minutes of conditioning.
I then donned my trainers, watch and heart monitor and went out for my first run since insulting my tissue on December 13th.
The river was low, the air clean and clear. The gulls squealed and wheeled over Battersea Bridge, whilst flocks of unidentifiable birds made magical formations in the sky. The native Americans tell you to look for the pictures in them – I always do – this morning I think I saw a bacon sarnie, well I was hungry.