Give us a choice

TO WHOM IT MAYCONCERN: I did not have any pudding at the Ivy! Today the programme was really grown up. We discussed the MMR jab and a doctor called in who was so rude, calling anything that wasn’t scientific ‘witchcraft’. Thankfully another doctor called in to apologise on behalf of other scientifically minded medics. The … Read more

The Jolly and the Ivy

This morning I went for my run. It was on with my heart moniter, trainers securely tied, and head down against the biting wind.
I ran along the river, the smells of ozone, the squawks of seagulls and the houseboats bobbing about in the water made for a wonderful 20 odd minutes.
Just as I got to St. Marys church a cyclist overtook me.
A woman.
A woman wearing a camel coat.
A woman wearing a camel coat, black shoes and blue, serge trousers.
A woman wearing a motley variety of clothing cycled past me, instead of using sturdy bicycle clips the woman opted for:
wait for it
TAN POP SOCKS over her blue, serge turn-ups.
Tan pop socks over her blue serge turn-ups as she cycled past me in Battersea.
That kept me going for at least 15 of those 20 odd minutes.
The fact that I noticed her meant I was back in the land of the living, the last few weeks, I’ve had my head up my own glycaemic index.

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Birthday Bliss

THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR BIRTHDAY WISHES. When I have scraped the snow off the cottage windows and dusted down the clematis on the walls, when I have walked Jackson and eaten the bestest ever shoulder of lamb infused with Indian spices, when I have taken freshly brewed coffee with the old man and two … Read more

OK Thursday

OK Thursday is the day before Good Friday.
It is cold, wet and completely unspring like.
This morning I had to wear my gloves when I was running.
Little black things they are, which grow when you put your fingers in.
I had my keys in one hand and my clock in the other all clutched neatly in my palm as I ran past the river..

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Acupuncture 4 me

My eye lids feel like saucepan lids. My legs feel like lead. Mr brain feels like blancmange. I had more needles in me than a porcupine. I am now ready for bed. Ooee! but I do so like your comments, all of you. don’t worry about me I am as fit as a fiddle and … Read more

Sugar and Spice and all things nice

For those of you who heard Steve Allen go on about my blood sugar level,let me tell you that the idea of taking drugs is beyond the pale.
I have taken myself in hand and cut out every bit of sugar I can find.
All raw food till I can stabilise my body.
An egg here a bit of mackeral there.
Lots of water and loads of proper suppliments.
The whole sugar thing started with my father and ended with my medical last week.

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A slice of Humility

The flat is quiet. Di is performing tonight and Dan has gone with her. Jim is rehearsing and BB is teaching bass in Shoreditch. I have just come in from taking Jackson out in the rain for a spot of air. and now, at 17.21 I am settling in for a quiet night. My guest … Read more

Come lie with me

Liar Liar
Pants on fire…
And were my cheeks red?
We discussed lying with a pyschologist from Manchester, a Mr. Beattie.
A lie is a deliberate attempt at deception, we discussed body language, that mens lies are self serving and womens lies are to protect and keep the peace, we discussed congenital lying, when a lie is ok and then we discussed the greatest lie of all:
Huge apologies to all the children that were listening, there is/isn’t a Father Christmas, depending on whether you are old/young enough to understand/not understand the concept of societal collusion….

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Life and Death

Yesterday I went to a funeral in Hendon. North London.
I climbed aboard the tube in Clapham South, went through East London and ended up in Mill Hill East.
The whole of London passed through my carriage, terrific.
I arrived two hours too soon, the wind was cold but the sun heated my bones. I caught the 240 bus, dismounted at the big red gates of the cemetery and wandered thorough the grounds.
It was too cold to hang around so I walked back up the hill and sat down in a cafe sandwiched between a real butchers, with a new phlock of pheasants in the window, and a kosher deli.
I didn’t think it was appropriate turning up at the chapel with a carrier bag full of dead birds and latkes, so I didn’t buy anything. But I did have a big full English breakfast which warmed the cockles.
The cemetery was shot with sunlight, Chinese, Indian, Italians, Jews, all laId to rest under elaborate marble head stones. There was even a family called CAME, I couldn’t help but think they CAME they SAW they etc.

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Oven ready mayhem

I’m eating spinach, watercress and rocket salad with home made chopped liver.
I always make it the same way. Onion and garlic – lots of it -sweated in olive oil, loads of chicken livers cooked on high until the blood has stopped running then a big splosh of dark, syrupy sherry, seasoned until the juices are even more syrupy, all whooshed up in a food processor with raw onion and garlic added to give it bite then hard boiled eggs grated on top.
Bobs your uncle, or Becky’s your aunt, dee-lic-ious.
I am eating it as we speak.
My keyboard must have the best fed crumbs in London.
I normally write my blog the minute I get in from LBC, I’m always hungry
after 3 hours on air, but today I was particularly ravenous. The show was gruelling, I don’t know whether it was me, you or the News hounds.

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