It’s Wednesday evening.
The window is open and there’s the distant buzz of an aeroplane flying to Gatwick.
God’s Gift has just watered the garden and I’m sitting in the attic xorsted.
Depping at Radio Kent. A splendid activity. Tomorrow and next week.
I leave the house at 7.45 and get into the studio by 8.00. The luxury of local work. It’s like eating a mango from the tree outside your window.
The team are well oiled. I feel very comfortable doing the 9-12 slot. The callers call, the the music plays and I’m knocked off with enough time to jump on a train to live my life in London.
It’s 20.07 time to slide down the stairs to have an evening and then bed.
What an ordered time I’m having of it.