Boxing Day, December 26th 2011

Had a great Christmas Day. Went to church at 9 o’clock to the service from the King James prayer book of 1662, which we prefer. The church looked beautiful and it was nice to be with so many friends.

BBC 1 broadcast a great service later in the morning live from Lichfield Cathedral, which we also enjoyed.

We had our Christmas dinner at five o’clock, just the two of us, and I am pleased to say that the turkey and everything was delicious. I would like to compromise the cook! Woo hoo! But she wasn’t in the mood. I’ll secretly slop some more Sherry in that trifle. See if that will do the trick.

Well, now the big day is over, who do you think is doing the washing up?

I’ve piled the pots and pans up very neatly at the far end of the worktop and found some odd plates and clobber at the back of the cupboard to get us by until Elaine comes later today. She’s marvellous. She’ll do the honours. And she’ll put it all away as well.

Among my lovely pressies, I got a heating pad from one of my nephews, Dylan and his lovely lady, Sarah, which is for wrapping around any part of the body that needs heat. As I write, I have my feet on it and I see that they are changing from purple to pink, which is absolutely great. ‘Purple to pink.’ Mmmm. Sounds like a great title for a book, doesn’t it. Pity I can’t make it fit the present Angel book I’m supposed to be writing. Do you know, I haven’t written a word of it for more than a fortnight. What with launching THE SNUFFBOX MURDERS as an eBook on Kindle, opening a Twitter account (as they say), coping with Christmas and going to the gym, I have simply not had the time. I must get down to it, or I shall be getting shrieks of complaint. I used to write three Angels a year and the odd play for the States, now it takes all my time writing the one book in twelve months.

I have worked up my attendances at the gym to five times a week, and I don’t mess around. I exercise hard for an hour at each session. I should soon be as lean as Prince Philip, who, although he is still in hospital as I write, I hear exercises on a regular basis, which must be some achievement for a 90 year old.

By the way, as you know, the NHS is being reorganised. And absolutely everything at Barnsley General Hospital is being turned upside down and back to front. I hope it will not result in negative improvements, because, up to now, the queen and I have always been looked after by the staff there in the most wonderful and careful way. Obviously the upheaval affects WEIGHTWISE. That’s the NHS department sexy Linda works for. I am waiting to consult her for diet analysis, follow up advice and to be weighed, but when I phone, poor lass, she is always in a meeting or dashing around somewhere. I don’t think she knows whether she is coming or going, or on her way back. But she’s very good. She always rings back, from a temporary phone number in a temporary office with no firm information. I must try her again soon. I might be knocking myself out at the gym and putting weight on!!!???

Well, Christmas day is over. The beginning of Chritianity has been duly celebrated. Whatever we did or didn’t do is now history. Hope you had a great day. 2012 is knocking at the door.

Have a great time, whether you are on your own, two of you or in a big family party.

And come back soon.

December 16th 2011

Hello there!

I have had many requests,(well,2 anyway)for a picture of me at work. So here it is.
Hello there!

I have had many requests,(well,2 anyway)for a picture of me at work. So here it is.

'I'm not in it because the queen called me away. Sorry about that.
Tuesday 6th December 2011

Well, I’ve been talked into joining TWITTER, which is more pleasant than I had thought. But I will have to be careful not to waste time. I mustn’t fritter on Twitter. Ya hay!
I’ve caught the rhyming bug.

Yesterday, after watching the news, the queen and I wrote the following doggerel in a twink, what do you think? (There it is again!)

Here we go ...
Sarcosy is cozy with Merkel,
But Putin is always disputin'.
The rest of the mob
Are still on the job,
And going around in a circle.
Ba bum.

I know it’s tripe but it rhymes.

By the way, talking about tripe, I’ve just seen the winning entry for the Turner Prize. I don’t think I'll ask Martin Boyce to design my sitting-room.

Ah me. Back to the book.

Thanks for looking in.