it’s 18 minutes past 2.00 and I’m still in my winceyette pj’s.
I’ve been diving into my days since the last programme – which as many of you know was extremely emotional.
It was also indulgent, funny, spirited, busy, musical, fattening but most of all e-e-e-e-e-motional.
Thank you so much for all my touching emails and messages.
So life now takes a different turn.
Monday I was shredded. I could hardly walk. Even though I knew my time at the Beeb was coming to an end it still hit me hared. Life -as we know it – had come to an end.
Although I am still covering at the end of October, and have just been asked to do Christmas and the new Year. All to be negotiated around the Old Git’s dates.
Month: September 2013
Lillie McCloud
Two days to go and my life, as I know it, changes irrevocably. The pattern of my life has been shifting and changing since 2010. Four and half year phases predominated. Then LBC put pay to that. Three and a half years and I was moving on. The Beeb have squeezed that three years into … Read more
looming swansong
My last show looms. How kind many of you are for sending me supportive messages. How unkind some of you have been. Doesn’t help to be attacked. of course I feel vulnerable, and yes your nasty comments do pierce my elephant hide. Maybe thats what you want? I’m down but not for long. My father … Read more
Blackberry Hill.
Little blue shorts and purple vest thingy, my trainers and a hair clip.
Yesterday I went to my brilliant beautician, who I have been seeing for 23 years, and spent an hour and a half having all my naughty bits removed.
First she slathered anesthetic cream all over my face and neck, then I held a metal rod which kept the current going round. Then she pricked me with a sharp little needle and cauterised all me blemishes. When the feeling came back into my face it felt like my skin was mmmming and humming, mmmming and humming.
Today I look like a Garibaldi biscuit. I may have mentioned that yesterday.
This morning , wearing my purple ensemble I ironed and tidied up before my wonderful cleaner arrived. I wanted her to do things in the kitchen which four baskets of ironing would have prevented.
Anyway ironing is one of those right brain activities which allows thinking. I kept the radio off and mulled over all sorts.
My writing partner.
BBC London.
Voice Overs.
Agism.
Poverty.
Loneliness.
What to cook for supper.
How long I would look like a Garibaldi.
Then I called my nephew – DAN THE MAN – who is so sensible and wise and clear and delicious. By the time I had pressed the last pillow-case and duvet-cover he had sorted me out.
Little blue shorts and purple vest thingy, my trainers and a hair clip.
Yesterday I went to my brilliant beautician, who I have been seeing for 23 years, and spent an hour and a half having all my skin tags removed.
First she slathered anesthetic cream all over my face and neck, then I held a metal rod which kept the current going round. Then she pricked me with a sharp little needle and cauterised all me blemishes.
Today I look like a Garibaldi biscuit. I may have mentioned that yesterday.
This morning , wearing my purple ensemble I ironed, and cleaned up before my wonderful cleaner arrived. I wanted her to do things in the kitchen which four baskets of ironing would have prevented.
Anyway ironing is one of those right brain activities which allows thinking. I kept the radio off and mulled over all sorts.
My writing partner.
BBC London.
Voice Overs.
Agism.
Poverty.
Loneliness.
What to cook for supper.
Then I called my nephew – DAN THE MAN – who is so sensible and wise and clear and delicious. By the time I had finished the last duvet cover he had sorted me out.