On my 21st Sunday Show I had Judy James, body language expert, who is so smart she manages to make politics as accessible as ‘The Beano’.
Bill Oddie, talking about being bi-polar, generously revealing all about himself which enabled you lot to talk about yourselves.
The London Gay Mens Chorus – we asked for ten men to come in, about 25 turned up. It was a hoot with dancers, beat boxers and pianists. Our little studio felt like The Chelsea Flower show.
Then Ana Isobel came in to talk about what to plant, what to prune and where to begin this month in the garden, all guided by the moon.
Then I had to dash as I had an event I had to go to.

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Verdi and chips.

I hoovered upstairs. He hoovered downstairs.
I ironed and did the washing, he made a bacon sandwich.
I plumped up the cushions in the sitting room he fed the cat.
Then he left and I loaded my car with my books, bags and a glorious bunch of gladioli that B had given me as a thank you for helping her put her car back on the road, she bought her dad four cans of ‘Speckled Hen’ beer!!!
Jim left and I detoured to the farm shop.
Bought 8 spears of asparagus, two tomatoes and a punnet of strawberries.
I nibbled my way through my raw food snack whilst listening to Mike Walkers play on Radio 4.

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To Freeze or not To Freeze….

I’m sitting in for Vanessa for two weeks so I have taken this week out to be at home.
It’s been lovely.
All three of us have been here, the daughter and husband have been writing and I’ve been reading and sitting in the garden looking at the flowers.
We have so many different coloured grandmothers bonnets it looks like a real cottage garden, why, the aqui legia vulgaris have even self seeded where I park the car. Nodding purple bonnets next to dusty pink foxgloves and yellow buttercups. I took a photo of them for remembrance.
We are clearing the studio at the end of the garden, the old git started with the pruning and stopped when he found a blackbirds nest. Four little chicks, openmouthed waiting for lunch. We’ve had to steer the cat away. Yesterday they flew off, so no more excuses the man has to get his secateurs out, not a pretty sight.
I’ve done all the things I do when I am at home, get my body fixed and watch telly. Yesterday was our wedding anniversary so we went out.

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Chelsea Flower Toe….

Sooooooooo. Open toed sandals are not allowed.
Sooooooooo. Black tee shirts are not allowed.
Sooooooooo. Spelling my name incorrectly and offering me a pair of shoes that are two sizes too big and a green builders waistcoat are compensation are they?
Lets start from the beginning.

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Whale won

Hello all, it feels like life is on the move again.
This morning I fitted in all my crancological needs including making a large pot of porridge with cinnamon and healthy sweetener.
The car arrived a little late but this week I wasn’t too concerned.
I decided on a dress I bought from ROLANDAS’ in Battersea Square. That Shirley really knows her stuff. Things that I think look odd don’t! Shirley gets me and my body….Even the make up artist at LWT wanted her address, when the makeup girls want your clothes you know you’re on a winner..
We sat in traffic for ages then pulled up outside ‘This Morning’ just in time to be met by young Martin.
Either they are getting younger and younger or I’m getting older and older? Please dont answer that.

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No excuses

Tuesday and I’ve just got locked into Aston and Cameron being romantically involved in Las Vega. If I were Demi I would be ever so slightly perturbed at my husbands antics. Still thats Hollywood for ya. Today I went on a 55 bus. A jolly good route from Clerkenwell Road right to Wardour Street. After … Read more

Ears and eyes.

‘This Morning’s’ studio is an add on to the old LWT Towers I knew back in the day.
The first person I saw was a doorman I hadn’t seen for a zillion years, then a researcher who was a Goth and is now fresh faced, a sound man, the director, Philip Schofield, it was lovely to be back in my old stomping ground.
It was truly good to be back on a sofa with the Thames rolling past, Paul Ross next to me and cameras.
It’s not narcissism to say I feel more at home in front of a lens than I do in front of a fire. But I have spent more years on a telly sofa than I have my own. It was lovely to be invited back, and a delight to get so many emails, texts and messages from folk who saw the show.
Who’d have thought it.
Here goes a new four year cycle.

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My Karma ran over my dogma

Last night I danced the night away with EMMA LEECH and 17 other people at the Royal Academy for Dance on Vicarage Road in Battersea.
Emma teaches the ‘Five Rhythms’, to people like me, young offenders and recovering addicts in Harley Street. She is totally lovely and I went along to her debut class in Battersea SW11.
Of course I was nervous, the last time I danced I cleared the floor, the organisers gave me a broom and told me to stop messing around and start sweeping.
Emma had the perfect music for the five states of dance. Which range from plinkity plonk to boom bang a bang, Burundi style.
I had filmed the creator of ‘Five Rhythms’ Gabrielle Roth twenty odd years ago when she came to England but I had never partaken. With the help of Emma and her incredible sound scapes I jumped and swung, swayed and shifted for a very long time. I think it was two hours but I was very tired, well I had returned to my beloved Bikram yoga at 6.30 that very morning – anyway I couldn’t see the clock.
The theory behind the five thingies is that you move out of the way of yourself using lyrical, stacatto, chaos and two more dances which I forget, to allow yourself to unblock.
I was new, a delightful witehaired woman from France was new, three blokes had done it before and a pile of partakers shed inhibition and moved around a real dance studio that Dame Ninnette de Valois would have been proud of, thats the dancing not the studio, although to be fair it is a lovely space.
I walked back to the flat and the ‘oosbind had arrived with glucose strips to measure my blood, a lovely little water bottle with it’s own filter which he bought me as a present and half a loaf of bread.
He looked lovely, makes a change for me to say that, although it didn’t stop us from having a ruck.
This morning my thighs feel like orange boxes but that didn’t deter me from having an ambulant Tuesday, with a really serendipitous set of events.

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Late for a very important date

Ain’t it the way.
Went to bed at 10.00 last night. Fell asleep almost immediately.
Woke up at 11.58.
Fell asleep almost immediately.
Woke up at 5.00
Fell asleep nearly immediately.
Woke up at 7.28 and I had overslept.
I was in some kind of stupor.
Turned my phone on to make sure the driver in the light blue car was still waiting at the gate. He was.
After a brief ablute I found underwear that was appropriate for leggings that turned out to make me look like a shrunken gym teacher and a t-shirt that gave me the air of a the head girl in a Catholic Girls School.
Why Catholic?
Because the t-shirt was the green of the Emerald Isle, I know their are different religions in Ireland but…..
Grabbed a mac and put on my Mac Red lippy.
Dashed downstairs and the ex bus-driver said he knew where he was going as he used to drive the 170 bus route.
Like L he did.
I arrived fifteen minutes later than normal but it was all aok.

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LISTEN GIRLS: If I had known then what I know now I would have done the shoot wearing a fur coat, cling fim and armoured plating. But what is done is done. I have to live with the pictures in my mind. When the calandar comes out I’m leaving the country.