I made a decision to stay at home in the ‘Cottarge’ instead of going away.
I made a decision that sitting in front of the fire with the old git would be preferable to hanging around an airport, travelling through the night, being in someone elses bed and not knowing what the weather was going to be – and I was right.
Staying at home is out of the ordinary for me as I am always in London working, The cottarge feels cosy and welcoming. The colours are deep and warming and being in my own big bed with my books and the silence, waking up to the ‘oosbind and the cat, padding around on the carpets, having a bath in my own bath and listening to the wind in the trees, really is exactly what I need.
Not that I’ve been idle. For that I really do need to get away. But I have enjoyed my week so far – give or take Wednesday….
Ad Infinitum
No Complaints
The problem with venison stew with parsnip mash is that there is a fare bit of sugar in it – innit.
I’m all a bit spinny and nauseous.
My evening with the girls was short but sweet.
Thursday at LBC went well if a little frantic.
Bedroom antics
When I interviewed TARELL ALVIN McCRANEY last week I had no idea I was in the presence of genius.
THE BROTHERS SIZE and IN THE RED AND BROWN WATER are two plays about young black people. Their relationships, using Yoruba myths, movement, music, theatricality, poetry, are played out with poise and power.
I went to see ‘Red and brown Water’ last night to quell my excitement.
I went to see the ‘Brothers Size’ as an antidote to all the excitment today. Brothers Size was as rivetting as Mr. Obama. Both brilliantly rivetting.
As Barak Obama’s fate was played out on my little telly screen so the slipknot of Mr. McCraney’s dialogue lingered in my mind. The lilting melody of the Southern States of America. Where, not surprisingly the Republicans held their power.
The night before tomorrow.
It’s not the politics of envy but a fear that achievments are only ever described in pounds, shillings and pence, not to mention the yankee dollar.
Lewis Hamilton stands to be the first ever Billion Dollar sportsman.
One Billion dollars for a boy who drives a car round a track. No it isn’t any more complex than that. Yes he’s a 23 year old role model but worth one billion dollars? I don’t think so.
As homeless people treck miles, barefoot, to hide from death and find a life away from the killing fields, and as we await the outcome of the American Election, a single car driver stands to rake in more dosh than the Gross National Product of the Democratic Republic of the Congo – cockeyed values if you ask me.
And tonight, November 3rd, I dare to believe that Obama will get in.
As the old order totters before our eyes like a drunken sailor, replacing anxiety and fear with optimism and courage must be the only way forward.
Lesley Douglas.
ch-ch-ch-changes I am sad that Lesley Douglas has resigned from radio 2. I am sad that it came to this. I am amazed at the backlash. Yes I think it’s time all broadcasters everwhere, including myself, are made responsible for everything that comes out of our mouths. I feel sorry for Mr. Ross’s family. I … Read more
Sarf East Fashion
There are good days and sometimes better.
Today was sometimes better.
William Roache – KEN BARLOW off the street – is a gentle, sweet man. He believes what he believes. Doesn’t try to make anybody part of his gang. The paperback version of ‘SOUL on the STREET’ reveals what drives him. Describes his philosophy. He has humour and humility, if Steve Allen had not gone on holiday I wouldn’t have met him.
So thank you Mr. A.
And then CAROLINE TAGGART, came in to talk about her grammar book. She reminded me of a Simmental cow. We have eight of them in the farm next to the cottage. They are smooth and light, blonde and langorous. They have a gentleness about them, their folds of chamis leather skin hanging down by milky bellies. Caroline had that lightness about her, with the smoothness of the Simmentals. She was funny and clever, when the phone started ringing it ‘Was such fun’. to quote one of you callers. I had no idea just how many of you got wound up by bad grammar and pronunciation?
Caroline lives in Pimlico which is why I drove that way to Borough.
Zeit who?
Zeitgeist: the spirit, attitude, or general outlook of a specific time or period.
The spirit of our time.
The Zeitgeist, as I write, is uncertainty.
Politicians blaming each other.
Money lenders counting their gains behind closed doors.
Even the scientists in New Delhi, having sent their first rocket to the moon, are being haranged by their countries poorest people.
‘Whilst you visit the moon, we haven’t a grain of rice to rub together.’ they call.
Why today, even I cracked whilst eating salad off a fork. I have used a fork for nigh on 60 years but today the Zeitgeist got to me too.
Instead of taking the fork out of my mouth as I bit down on my beetroot, my teeth met the metal tines and before you could say Zeit who? my front tooth bit the dust, well not the dust, but you know what I man. That’s another trip to the dentist.
Walk On By
Two hours of television and my eyes spin round like fruit machines.
I watched Gok – not sure what I feel about him.
I like Joan Rivers joke – a lollipop named after him is a Gok Sucker….
Then I watched Steve Coogan in SUNSHINE. I cried so much it sounded like I had adenoidal trouble.
This evening I walked very fast over Battersea Bridge onto Kings road then turned left towards Worlds End.
Pillow Talk
On Saturday I made beef stew with horseradish dumplings, buttery cabbage and celeriac mash for seven of us. We had apple crumble made with the apples from our garden. There was not one crumb left. The satisfaction of the perfect quanitity. We have 3 apple trees they have all done well this year. Some of … Read more
Lewisham Nights
It’s a perfect day for staying in and reading the papers, doing the ironing in front of the radio, watching telly and sleeping in my own bed.
The rain is lashing down. It’s driving in from the South, on a slant, battering the clematis on the cottage wall.
The Virginia Creeper on the spruce tree in the garden is clinging on for dear life.
The heatings on.
My feet are freezing, I’ve left my red wooly socks downstairs, and my belly is rumbling.
It’s gone 11.00 and I havn’t been downstairs yet.
When I woke up this morning I remembered I had done an ‘Audience With…’ which meant a real day of rest, no worrying, no panic, no flutterings, just a day of reading, eating, watching and probably a long hot bath.