Easter doesn’t really mean anything to me as a festival, although I do like the idea that shops must shut on Easter Sunday. And its lovely having Gods Gift and the dawter home for four days.
I went to work this morning. Although calling my three hour shift at BBC LONDON work is not quite accurate as we have such a good time.
I listen to Aled Jones on the way in and join in with as many songs as I can. I also try and remember them in order. This morning I got as far as Bette Midler and a choral thing about birds. Then I drifted off. Not a great idea since I was driving at the time. There were about thirteen toons so my memory is getting better. Little exercises that keep my brain trim.
A massive apology to Lindy and all my bloggers who listen in on a Sunday morning.
I have no control over the change of my musical bed, we all have to use the funny little musical sting that sounds like breakfast telly from 1982. Edmundo Ross was retired. I cried, you cried we all cried. I loved my ‘Moulin Rouge’, I loved what it made me feel like but the powers that be have made an executive decision so thats that.
Lets keep our fingers crossed that Edmundo will be back strutting his stuff sometime soon.
Just don’t abandon me that’s all I ask.
This morning I had WENDY WASON on. A wonderful writer, stand up and mother. We tackled the papers like we were talking over the garden fence.
MATTHEW WILLIAMSON talked gardening and THE SIBLING NETWORK talked about families and mental health. ANN AKIN and CATHERINE ASHTON from VINTAGE STAR PRODUCTIONS talked about their play which covers the issues of mental health. Look em up and support them they are young and vibrant.
Then the Easter bunny brought chocolates courtesy of PAUL YOUNG – after 8 weird concoctions, ranging from red onion and balsamic vinegar to cigar leaf chocs, I was shaking with delight – and Theobromine. It has a similar, but lesser, effect to caffeine on the human nervous system, in my case it had a lotter effect on my nervous system. I was talking so fast I nearly ended up in Tony Blackburns studio next door.
MICHAEL BRANDON was my final guest. It is official I AM IN LOVE with the man from America who is in SINGING IN THE RAIN and has the humour of a NEW YORKER. he made me cry, the man with a thousand voices also teaches meditation in Prisons. I rest my case…..
I arrived home in time for a bowl of mung bean soup and a snooze in the armchair.
The two of them are doing music downstairs and I’m sitting semi naked in the little room catching up on my blog. I know I have been remiss but somethings changing and I’m finding it hard to put down in words what I am thinking. Sometimes my thoughts are hidden so far way from me I can’t access them.
I have been out in the garden doing what I have never done before, digging up things, pulling out things, pruning things and standing and viewing my work like an old farmer. Hand on hips with my thoughts in the earth.
My garden is looking lovely, although the flowers on The Magnolia Tree have turned brown and most of my daffodils were blind this year.
I have planted up all sorts in pots including three vibrant ranunculus and a Japonica that was given to me for my birthday. Maybe I shall keep some kind of gardening journal. To remember the sparrows on the fat balls and the blackbird that is now so familiar to us that he comes up close to the swing set. I don’t frighten him and he certainly doesn’t frighten me. There is a huge red-breasted robin who visits our new bird table – the flat sappy trunk from the sawn down conifer.
Its still light at 6.30 so I may water me coriander, have a gentle bath then polish off the last of Paul’s little chocolates.
Happy New beginnings.