Strictly no Dancing

What a strange old time.
My feet and fingers are cold. I’m wearing my mothers old cardigan, pink wooly socks and my flannelette pyjama trousers.
It must be AUTUMN setting in.
I’m going into the vegetable patch to pick a big lettuce, some spinach and kale leaves then make a huge salad.
On Saturday the old man and I went to a wedding in a field. Wild flowers, tents and the ceremony under a centuries old oak tree. Very lovely it was too. The bubbles and nosh were so plentiful we ate enough for their silver and golden anniversaries.
I tried to stay up last night to watch the meteor shower but fell asleep after three pages of a new book, given to me by my New York guest.
The floor of my room is covered in pages of script. which I am sending to Radio 4 drama. It’s an old idea. Found an old letter from, Tessa Ross telling me it would be better as a sit-com. I may well try and re-write it as such. I am taking myself off on a writing course in October. To learn some basics.
I also found a letter from my old headmaster to my drama school principle. Confirming everything I always knew. Whilst I am not academically brilliant I do have a great sense of humour. Something you need when you are as thick as two short planks. Always good to be able to laugh at oneself.
After 42 years in the industry I am slowly understanding my strengths. I can make people laugh, even when I’m trying to be serious.
Dancing at ‘Pineapple’ back in the day, jumping through the air across the room it was clear, even then, as the teacher doubled up in painful gulps of giggles, that my career as a dirty dancer was not to be.
Which reminds me Vanessa Feltz is going to be on ‘Strictly Come Dancing’.