The Passover passed over.
I bought so much food we had enough to feed the twelve tribes of Israel.
Friday night I went to a birthday party.
Lots of women wearing elegant black dresses and me in a two piece culotte and top type effort with little pink shoes that pinched my toes.
I didn’t drink but I nibbled on canopes that dropped crumbs all down me velvet.
Saturday I didn’t leave my pyjamas.
Sunday I ate along with my roomies, my mother, my husband, my daughter and her squeeze.
Monday I worked, without Steve he was away in La France, but I had James Robinson who looked after me rather well I thought.
Last night I went to a Charity meal at Benares. Michelin starred Indian bites that had me reeling on the banquettes in Berkeley Square.
I did the auction and the wealthy eaters coughed up – their money not the banana leaves….
Loads of my lovely chefs were there hosting tables. Bordoni, Tanaka, Rowe and two hairy bikers to name but 5. By the time I got home my feet were killing me, I fell into bed with a clear conscience a full belly and no reserves left to write my diary let alone my blog.
Today is Tuesday, only I thought it was Wednesday.
Todays show was very heated. I posed the question was Capitalism dying and out came all sorts of opinions.
I now know that Society really is breaking down – The Rowntree Foundation has done survey and that was their conclusion.
One wonderful animal behaviourist called in remind us we were all animals, that vegetarianism wouldn’t necessarily change the world and anyway the world is cooling down, not heating up, whilst the hole in the ozone appears to be closing up, I hope he is right…..
I wonder whether Victoria Beckham thinks about such things?
The weather is warm and balmy, I am off to Hackney to see my husband act again. I do so enjoy him in his bowler hat, he makes me laugh, as he does all the other members of the audience.
Tomorrrow I am interviewing a writer getting her son better with alternative options, cant wait.
I have eaten far too much left-over chick-pea salad, viennas, falafal and three forkfuls of chopped liver.
If I dont eat it it will rot in the fridge – I know its no excuse – but once a human dustbin always a human dustbin.
It’s 5.30 I must go otherwise I shall be late for Ibsen and that would never do.
If I have the energy I will blog again later otherwise