Oh University life! I shall get myself one of those big scarves,a duffle coat and a bike, protest against whale watching and top up cards......well for ten weeks anyway until my evening course is over.

Can't wait for today's work to be over, I have so much ahead. Tomorrow I am up with the larks ready to get to the phone for Morrissey tickets.They will sell like hot cakes, I hope I am not setting myself up for dissapointment. I don't want to be sitting on the stairs in my dressing gown come tea time.

It's bed early for the ladyfriend and I on Friday night as we have to be up at 5.30 to hightail it over to Berkhamsted for May day madrigals. Then it's M25 all the way to Eastbourne where our days are fully booked. Boat show, French Market, Mayor's Fireworks and Hastings Jack-in-the-green. I must tell the ladyfriend to stock up with ginseng I'm flagging already and we haven't passed a little chef yet!

I must sharpen my pencil, I am off tonight to a great institution of learning to absorb some knowledge. I do like attending the odd course or two, it's nice to keep one's hand in as it were.

This weather is a bit of a worry, especially after watching the trailer for The Day After Tomorrow.It's one of those disaster movies but about global warming. I want to see it and I'm sure it will make big money at the box office. I do wonder though, as the film will rake in millions it might be nice if they donate a huge wack to Friends of the Earth or the like. That would be nice, but unlikely.

It is rather scary. The ladyfriend were quite alarmed after watching a programme about the gulf stream stopping and the ice age coming to Norfolk. We are as they say "all doomed" but it might be nice, like an etch a sketch, for the world to start all over again and penguins to inherit the earth.

Feel a little bleary eyed this morning. I sensed the Ladyfriend's lack of enthusiasm to watch Time Team last night so we watched the film where the first rule about it is you don't talk about it. I consumed the remnants of two day old red wine (the bottle from the Indian on Saturday) so the milk thistle has got its work cut out for it today.

Forgot to mention Clare Teal. We went to see her on Friday and my goodness she's got a good set of lungs on her. Didn't see anyone famous but jazz people always meld into the background, I think it's because they go to dark, smokey jazz clubs and therefore take on a grey, lifeless complexion, it's that or they end up looking like George Melly. I did see a lady who looked like Dame Cleo but I think these days many woman in their autumnal years tend to embrace the spiral perm.........I know I will.

Well, I've had an absolutely marvellous weekend, an absolute tonic. Friday the ladyfriend and I went up to Hoo Hing for a little light shopping. I picked up a few whiffy packets of this and that and toyed with a huge bottle of chilli sauce which would have made your eyes water. As we were in the area we went along to IKEA filled a yellow bag with napkins, a plant pot and a handy stool which will enable me to open and close the window blind in the kitchen at Eastbourne. It's a self assembly job which will fit discreetly behind the bin and will save me clambering over worktops in my night attire.

Saturday the ladyfriend and I took leave of our sofa slut senses and walked from Bourne End into Marlow and back. For those that don't know the route, it is quite a walk but an invigorating one as it passes along the Thames. The weather was fantastic and it was an absolute delight. We lunched in Marlow and to our surprise caught site of Michelle & Sarah (fellow spinsters of this parish). We were not surprised to see them guzzling alcohol, they always know how to pack a good picnic.

We cracked on with our walk back to Bourne End and as we entered Bourne End Marina we met Diane and her husband Mick, making their boat ship shape for the summer. Then, we met pregnant Fiona and her husband Nick. THEN we saw the successful film director Steven Spielberg strolling along the towpath. Amazing.

Saturday night was quite a delight as it was out with my favourite pair of "double d's" Dawn and Dave. They picked us up in their Roller, I've never felt such luxury since I slipped on a new pair of panties from M&S. Such comfort! I felt like Elkie Brooks enroute to a sell out concert at the Reading Hexagon. Alas I was not clutching a bottle of champagne but half a bottle of Shiraz from an Indian Restaurant but the thought was there.

Such visions I had when my head hit the pillow, I don't know if it was the food colouring but I was certainly taken to a happy place. I saw mountains and twinkly stars, it was quite magical.

Sunday, hanging as usual after a night out with the Double D's. All we could muster was a country drive and a little light gardening. The week ahead is fit to bursting: an evening course, may day madrigals and the Lord Mayor - I can't wait!

Do Sit Down, Shocks Are So Much Better Absorbed With The Knees Bent

I'm so excited, this morning the grass was sodden with dew and there were pretty cobwebs on my bird table. Summer will soon be here, May day is soon, I shall be dancing round the village pole, slovak and cypriot. I've tried to convince the ladyfriend to come with me to Oxford at 3am and stand on Magdalen Bridge next Saturday, but she's having none of it. read all about it here. However, she has conceded with one of my fancies and on Bank Holiday Monday we are off to Hastings for what looks like to be a right old pagan knees up - the jack in the green.........have you seen Rowan Morrisson?

It's a very damp yet sticky day at the office. The clouds are broody and a walrus of a woman has just walked in through the door (I will say no names but she doesn't own a mirror)

Anyway, I digress, oooh, I've quite a week of adventure and occassion. On Friday I'm off up to the Chinese Supermarket, IKEA and then in the evening I am off to see Clare Teal - the saviour of popular Jazz music. If I see anymore of that grinning, mono browed, down syndrome Jamie Callum I shall lose my jazz marbles.

It's going to be a good gig, it's in an intimate venu (Wycombe Town Hall) and the word on the street is there will be several "celebrities" in the house. Oh yes, local ones.........that means Michael Parkinson and Timmy Mallet.

I see Victoria has pulled all of David Beckham's lovely long locks out for the summer. I must say, and all my colleagues agree with me, it does suit him better. However, I don't think a trip to the barber shop and a quick transformation will have the same effect on their marriage. I should imagine, psychologically, they think a quick whirr of the clippers will shed them of the tawdry tales but it wont. I give it six months.

Mind you, I know I keep banging on about Morrissey at the moment but I wonder if this is old Posh's way of trying to ride the wave of Morrissey's popularity. Why, if I turn to the lyrics of "Hairdresser on Fire" I can't help but be stunned by this verse...."Oh, here is London "Home of the brash, outrageous and free", You are repressed, But you're remarkably dressed, Is it Real ?" click here if you don't believe me

Now, has Posh misinterpreted the lyrics, thought "is it real" meant Real Madrid and told David "You're remarkably dressed , you better get ya 'air cut so we can get tickets to Meltdown"

I've got a feeling in my water (curable, I'm sure with a drop of cranberry juice) that it's going to be a nice week. I'm sure, globally speaking, a handful of soldiers will die in Iraq, a lady in Wiltshire will give birth to conjoined twins and the body of a civil servant - missing since the August bank holiday in 1957 - will be discovered in a lock up in East Grinstead.

But for me it will be a good one, sprinkled here and there with shock and surprise. Old Jonathan Cainer reckons I am going to be treated to a rare gift from the sky - I don't know what that's about but I narrowly missed seagull shit yesterday.

Pay day - oh tres jolie! I will not starve. I can have the pate de fois gras afterall. Good heavens, I was sailing rather close to the wind I can tell you. I have been a bit care free at the checkout this month, acting like a libertine and not a frugal spinster of this parish. It does a girl good to give in to temptation every now and again....

By the way, I forgot to mention, I saw Wendy Craig last week. She stopped to let me pass on a busy country road, I must say, she did look rather down trodden and the Dulcie Gray hair do will have to go.......perhaps, on reflection it was Dulcie Gray.

My insides are not me own. I put it down to "pierce the film lid and place on a baking tray." I'll never eat prosessed food again. Ad nauseum.

This weekend I intend to atone for my gastric sin by feeding on bread and Perrier. Infact, I must catch up with myself, I shall have a candle-lit bath (never left un-attended) I shall add salt and rub a ripe avocado over my boat. I may even dig out an old Enya cd and scatter rose petals.

The Ladyfriend and I intend to romp over Beachy Head this weekend so if anyone fancies a flash mob we will convene by the Brewers Fayre at 2pm.

I have decided I adore Easter. What a marvellous holiday. Four days of relaxation. It's as good as Christmas, infact I think it is better as it comes without the pressures of visiting unusual relatives.

After seeing the Mel Gibson film I toyed with the idea of going to church on Sunday. Unfortunately the stirring sound of the bells which drifted on the morning air were not enough to stir me from my bed. Perhaps next year.

Got a lot done this weekend, the house is completely spring cleaned, the lawns are cut to ribbons and the outer rim of my wardrobe has been consigned to a black plastic bag (will tank tops ever be in fashion again?)

I also tried out two new recipes which were rather good. The pork was sublime but the moroccon chicken was dissapointing. I can only describe Moroccon cuisine as lack lustre, too heavy on the apricots and too light on flavour. It was a Sophie Grigson jobby and unfortunately tasted like it.

Maundy Thursday then and the agony in the garden, which, when you think of it, is the traditional time for all the flymos and pruning sheers to come out, I wonder if the Lord knew not what he do and that his crucifiction would coincide with horticulture and backache.

Never one to miss an occassion, the Ladyfriend and I are off to the cinema tonight with Mr C & Mr D to see Mel Gibson's slasher movie "The passion of the Christ". I'm quite looking forward to it. I like to emerse myself in an occassion. We were trying to sing Easter hymns on the way to work but could only come up the green hill one, I was convinced there was a little donkey involved but it just wasn't happening.
Anyway, start every day with this.

I think I may be a jinx on Arsenal. I have kept an ear on their triumphant unbeaten success yet had never managed to watch them - until Saturday when they played the Manchester United neanderthals. They lost. Then last night on the radio they seemed to be doing ok. I got home from work and put the television on and they lost. I won't watch them anymore incase they get relegated. Lovely long legs though. They are like horses at dressage with their white socks.

Wenger's fatal mistake was not playing Frank McLintock.

It seems hooping aint as easy as I had first hoped. Last night, during the news, I tried frantically to master my new red and white ring but to no avail. I tried to concentrate my attentions to the news hoping my hips would fall naturally into the rythm but it didn't work. As muslim extremists flashed before my eyes so did my hoop and I was down on the floor sooner than you could say "Abdel-Majid al-Khoei".

My buttocks feel like they have been through the mill so it must be doing me some good.

What a weekend! Thanks to my handsome big brother the ladyfriend and I scooped £55 on the national, the first time I have tried an online bookmakers. It lacked the atmosphere of the high street bookies but to make up for it the ladyfriend and I spat on the floor and smoked a packet of Woodbines as we placed our £5 each way bet on Amberleigh House. I've never picked a winner before (unless you count the ladyfriend) and I was cock-a-hoop!

Talking of hoops, I have joined the legion of "Hoopers" an underclass but a growing trend- Check this out. I bought my first hoop this morning from a pregnant toy shop owner who was eating celery sticks and houmous.

In a radio interview earlier this morning, Howard Johnson, General Secretary of the British Union of Post Office Workers. Mr. Johnson was up in arms about a recent proposal that the British mail adopt the German method of addressing envelopes in which the house number is written after the name of the road, not before it (i.e. Downing Street 10, instead of 10 Downing Street). Johnson spoke at great length about the enormous burden this change would place upon postal employees, insisting that "Postal workers would be furious because it would turn upside-down the way we have learned to sort." "Not only that, it would cost in the region of 40 million pounds to pay for these alterations" His comments elicited an immediate reaction from the listening audience, many of whom phoned up to voice their support for Johnson's campaign.