I have white, knitted woollen slippers on.
I have thick winceyette pyjama trousers on with HONEY DEW and BLUEBELL written all over them.
I have a white vest, with lace round the edges on.
I have my fathers khaki v-neck sweater on.
I have a blue cardigan on.
I have a multi coloured fleece on.
Still my thighs are cold.
The heating has packed up in the flat so I look like a sherpa about to mount a peak in Nepal
LBC
Gremlin City
So there I was running in the sunshine having a think and chewing on my bee pollen when the Wandsworth Council gardener made me laugh so much I nearly tripped over his hose.
I ran back through Battersea Square just in case he had another one up his sleeve.
I had a shallow bath with loads of baby bubbles, packed my linen bag and left in time to get into the studio so I could listen to Steve my producer give me all my ideas – and then off I went to the third floor to trail the show.
After a greeny lunch with a smattering of cous cous I took my bag and bits up to the studio to set about Thursday’s extravaganza.
Today, though the gremlins were in…..
Give us a choice
TO WHOM IT MAYCONCERN: I did not have any pudding at the Ivy! Today the programme was really grown up. We discussed the MMR jab and a doctor called in who was so rude, calling anything that wasn’t scientific ‘witchcraft’. Thankfully another doctor called in to apologise on behalf of other scientifically minded medics. The … Read more
Acupuncture 4 me
My eye lids feel like saucepan lids. My legs feel like lead. Mr brain feels like blancmange. I had more needles in me than a porcupine. I am now ready for bed. Ooee! but I do so like your comments, all of you. don’t worry about me I am as fit as a fiddle and … Read more
A slice of Humility
The flat is quiet. Di is performing tonight and Dan has gone with her. Jim is rehearsing and BB is teaching bass in Shoreditch. I have just come in from taking Jackson out in the rain for a spot of air. and now, at 17.21 I am settling in for a quiet night. My guest … Read more
Come lie with me
Liar Liar
Pants on fire…
And were my cheeks red?
We discussed lying with a pyschologist from Manchester, a Mr. Beattie.
A lie is a deliberate attempt at deception, we discussed body language, that mens lies are self serving and womens lies are to protect and keep the peace, we discussed congenital lying, when a lie is ok and then we discussed the greatest lie of all:
Is there a FATHER CHRISTMAS?.
Huge apologies to all the children that were listening, there is/isn’t a Father Christmas, depending on whether you are old/young enough to understand/not understand the concept of societal collusion….
Life and Death
Yesterday I went to a funeral in Hendon. North London.
I climbed aboard the tube in Clapham South, went through East London and ended up in Mill Hill East.
The whole of London passed through my carriage, terrific.
I arrived two hours too soon, the wind was cold but the sun heated my bones. I caught the 240 bus, dismounted at the big red gates of the cemetery and wandered thorough the grounds.
It was too cold to hang around so I walked back up the hill and sat down in a cafe sandwiched between a real butchers, with a new phlock of pheasants in the window, and a kosher deli.
I didn’t think it was appropriate turning up at the chapel with a carrier bag full of dead birds and latkes, so I didn’t buy anything. But I did have a big full English breakfast which warmed the cockles.
The cemetery was shot with sunlight, Chinese, Indian, Italians, Jews, all laId to rest under elaborate marble head stones. There was even a family called CAME, I couldn’t help but think they CAME they SAW they etc.
Oven ready mayhem
I’m eating spinach, watercress and rocket salad with home made chopped liver.
I always make it the same way. Onion and garlic – lots of it -sweated in olive oil, loads of chicken livers cooked on high until the blood has stopped running then a big splosh of dark, syrupy sherry, seasoned until the juices are even more syrupy, all whooshed up in a food processor with raw onion and garlic added to give it bite then hard boiled eggs grated on top.
Bobs your uncle, or Becky’s your aunt, dee-lic-ious.
I am eating it as we speak.
My keyboard must have the best fed crumbs in London.
I normally write my blog the minute I get in from LBC, I’m always hungry
after 3 hours on air, but today I was particularly ravenous. The show was gruelling, I don’t know whether it was me, you or the News hounds.
The Earth Moved
The epicentre of the Earthquake was in Lincoln, BUT, loads of Londoners felt monsters under their bed, orgres in their wardrobes and, way over in Muswell Hill, saw their plates rattle on the shelves.
5.2 on the Righter scale and I slept through it.
Bushey, in Hertfordshire heard it.
Ware in the World experienced it.
And Chadwell Heath’s inhabitants held onto their hats.
Paddington Stare
This morning I did my Tibetan Five.
A series of RITES that are done in the Himalayas by people who live very long lives.
5 simple exercises done 21 times, every day, which are meant to keep you limber and lithe.
Bruce Forsythe does them, and look what he looks like.
No comments please.
Anyway I did my 5 rites, meditated then set off for LBC.