Does my BUTT look big in this?

Saturday night and sleep eluded me. Utterly deserted me, it went next door and bedded down with Simba the dog, but not one tiny bit of shut eye visited me.
I went to bed early in the hope that I could doze having listened to Clever Trever’s little 9 min. 27 second CD.
Got up and wandered round the flat, watched some BBC IPlayer.
Went back to bed and listened to some music.
Read until my eyes felt heavy.
De Nada.
Got up and made porridge with cuinnamon and agarve syrup. Filled my belly.
Absolutely totally nothing.
Put on The World Service and listened to reporters fropm all over the world giving me info, ideas but precious little respite.
And then the slicing voice of a radio announcer cut through my sleep. At 7.15. precisely an hour and a half later after I had finally dropped off, I had to get up for the 24th Radio Show for BBC London.
I felt ill.
I felt queasy.
I felt really sick.
I had opted to drive myself into Egton House so I could get myself back to the cottage in double quick time after the show. A red people carrier was waiting for me. I knew it was for me, even though it had been cancelled, I just knew it was my driver. Two missed messages confirmed that it was, that it hadn’t been cancelled and the driver was patiently waiting for his pick up. He may still be there for all I know.

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Tool strain

all. I am covered in scratches from the rose climber at the ned of the garden First I used a saw like lumberjacks use. Then I used a saw that I could hold – have had to shower the saw dust from my hair, and my fingers aren’t working properly from holding the tool. Too … Read more

June 5th.

A huge demonstration in Hyde Park, commemorating the Massacre of Sikhs in 1984 filed past me. The old, the young, the bearded and the bejewelled, marched under the huge trees.
I cried as swathes of orange turbaned people marched together.
Old women leading the chanting reminding us that the Amritsar massacre saw hundreds of innocent women and children being shot in cold blood, whilst the Sikh prisoners were tied with their own turbans and then shot in the head.
The Army invasion of the Golden Temple left 10,000 pilgrims dead and 30,000 people homeless
Is it not time for us to stop the inhumanity of shortsighted people who are too scared to share the land with others? Some would say its the bi-product of an overcrowded planet. I say let us live in harmony and let Mother Nature do her thing….

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Lend me a Tenor….

23.39 Saturday night, the air is balmy and I have three days of journals to write, accounts to do, and some sleep to fit in before tomorrows show.
Today has been, like the rest of last week, as busy as B’s.
I have loved sitting in for Vanessa. I am doing another week this week, I hope it’s as much fun.
I’ve had an assortment of female producers, pregnant ones, married ones, single ones and all perfectly suited to making my life, and the show, fabulous.
They get in an hour before me, scour the newspapers then throw the stories at me. I panic, they get the guests. I panic they get the calls. I panic they get the tea, by noon we are all talked out and ready for an afternoon nap. They, however, continue to work their gorgeous butts off whilst I walk back to the flat or do whatever needs to be done.

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