I do my bit for the environment, not one copy of the Morning Star leaves the house in a bin liner, I have a pile of rotting vegetables in the garden, I switch off lights when I leave the room and I wash my smalls in Ecover. BUT, I suddenly thought the other day, 'why am I doing it?' It may be selfish, but I wont have kids to worry about leaving the planet to and to be honest a warmer climate will be a boon when I develop arthritis.
The thing that has set this off ofcourse is the traffic in the morning. I pass rather a lot of those big gas guzzling people carriers ferrying over indulged children to and from school and I thought if the very people that have children don't give a stuff then how on earth can they expect me to.
Don't you know that children are our future? sang Whitney but my God look what's happened to her.

I have just seen a big fat Jay bird on a branch, they are a cruel race, but it made my thoughts turn to spring, it won't be long until we see the green shoots from the ground and bulbs bursting into life.
I've been thinking about bulbs, I know it's wrong of me but I was thinking how fun it would be to find an expanse of municipal ground and in the dead of night plant some tulips in an organised display. What's wrong with that? I hear you ask. My display would be a naughty one and when in bloom would say something like "bugger off"

It's a twister Aunty Em, it's a Twister!

I've just been out for a mince around the industrial estate - I'm laying down a few too many layers of flab around the buffers - and I was nearly blown into the path of a juggernaut. It's blowing a gale out there and whipping the country into a frenzy. One of my potted palms has gone over at home, the streets are filled with newspapers put out for the dustman who never came and trees lie prostrate across country lanes like that bit at the end of Torvill and Dean's 'Balero'.

On my way to work this morning I saw a car which had stopped at a junction with his wheels still spinning. I dare say that he paid a lot of money for such hub cap 'decoration' but let me tell you, at 8 o'clock in the morning when the senses are not so highly tuned it was rather alarming. I saw my colourful life flash before my eyes as I prepared myself for a collision.
I remember as a child clothes pegging a square of cardboard to my bike (from a packet of shreddies) so that the spokes of my wheels would sound like the engine of a motor bike. It was great fun. I suppose these gentlemen are looking to recreate the same excitement by adorning their motorcars.
I must say, I wouldn't mind adding a few flags, ribbons and bells to my car AND because of the state of the roads now the holidays are over I would like a huge banner on the bonnet saying "F*cking walk to school"

Hooraay! The ladyfriend and I have gained equal rights to hotel rooms, trouser presses and tea and coffee making facilities despite the religious protest. It went through the Lords smoothly without a hitch or act of God. Brilliant. A shame for those folk waving the 'sodomites burn in hell' placards but atleast they had a nice day out in the big smoke and hopefully a safe journey home - see, I can be nice.
Ofcourse the first thing the ladyfriend and I will do for our civil partnership is book Westminster Abbey, a muslim photographer and obviously Tom Forrest's guest house for our honeymoon (asking for the 'sexual deviant suite naturally)
Mind you, you can't press pause on decades of discrimination and abuse and just like the 'ban' on foxhunting it will still go on. Perhaps little groups of religious extremists will get together in the countryside and burn posters of Elton John an H from Steps.

I've been beginning to think that I've become a bit type cast. I keep getting the same roles. I'm always the shy retiring sort who'll 'have no trouble here'.
I've never been one for an audience, I can trace it back to my infant school where I had to stand up in some kind of school play and say "I can play the triangle, ting, ting, ting" tapping the instrument three times - see, I can still remember the lines. I was petrified. I must have been all but six.
I've played the part of wallpaper ever since. Ask not what life can do for me but what I can do for life! Perhaps I should shake things up a bit and wear a cravat, prance around with a silver topped cane, become a rake, a dandy, start a dance troupe. When I go I want to go like Elsie.

There's not a lot on the telly in the week - unless you're fond of watching hours of soaps and reality tv - so the Ladyfriend and I joined the easy jet dvd hire thing. It's right up our alley, we choose a disc and they send it in the post, we watch it and then send it back. We love it. We like to get a tv series so we can watch an episode a night. A few months ago it was Series 1 of Tenko, I was hooked, I still don't know what's happened to all those poor ladies who went off into the bush.
Anyway, at the moment we are watching Love Soup with Tamsin Greig. I think she's great. She was great in Black Books too but I don't like the Green Wing. It's not her fault. I just don't think it's funny. But lots of people do, but a lot of people like Ricky Gervais and I've never understood his popularity.

Holy smoke without fire

Next week a group of Christians, Muslims and Jews will hold a demonstration against the Sexual Orientation Regulations which start in April. What this basically means is that it will be illegal to discriminate against people be it gay or straight when providing services. To quote the Daily Mail "Campaigners claim the rules will force religious groups to promote homosexual rights in contradiction to their teachings and could persecute those who disapprove of homosexuality on moral grounds" - how awful for them.
Now, isn't it heartwarming that what with 9/11 (which has always sounded to me like the opening hours of a convenience store) the Bush crusade in the Holy land and Israel's wall building, these battling religions can still come together to bash the queers? It also would seem that the Jews have got a very short memory when it comes to tolerance.
These new laws cut both ways you know, it doesn't just extend to a bitter old Bed and Breakfast owner who denies a couple of old poofs a seaview in Broadstairs, it will effect the gay community too. We will have to open our doors to binge drinking hen parties and there will be nothing we can do to stop them, our dance floors will be filled with underdressed fat girls wearing devil's horns - the closest thing to hell we will EVER see.

'Special' stuff

Today I popped to the 'local' butcher close to work. I try to stay clear of the supermarket whenever possible and as spaghetti bolognese is on the menu tonight (the ladyfriend's favourite) I needed some mince.
There were no familiar labels at the butcher shop, no organic stickers, no kite marks or tractor signs so my heart was in my mouth. I asked for enough mince for two and then the excitement began...
The fella in the apron exploded, "oooh, very good madam, yes, yes let me see" and he bustled about in the back of the shop and returned with a tray of the stuff. It only cost £1.49 which is gentle on the pocket but will it be the same on the stomach? We shall see. I was just a little taken aback by the frenzy the word 'mince' caused, what on earth would happen if I mentioned offal?

Sheep Shit

I'm up in arms about this 'Gay gene in sheep' experimentation. I'm with Martina on this one. It ticks my box in the admitance that homosexuality is not a serving suggestion but a biological fact but to attempt to meddle with it spells disaster. Thing is it's obvious to me that homosexuality exists as Mother Nature's contraception, controlling populations so that the planet regulates its resources. Just imagine if there were no gay rabbits, rats or flies. I think you know where I am going with this one. To be honest, I think homosexuals should be highly praised and elevated to the highest position in society. My people free up school places, leave room in playgrounds and are little or no strain on the country's services. We don't breed to keep the masses in check, the gifts we have are many, our menfolk are better dancers and our ladies can put up shelves.

My word but it was cold this morning. I like to chill out with the rest of them but I could have done without the icy blast that whipped around my breast pocket at 7.15am. The moon was still out and it loomed in the sky like a large lady on a seaside promenade who has to sit down a minute whilst she catches her breath. A hazard to shipping.
It's supposed to be the most depressing day of the year today but I like winter, I like the boney branches, wet grass and howling winds, I like stews, rooty vegetables and warming wine. I like wearing lots of layers, hats and bulky boots. So, as we go into these two miserable months when it feels like there is nothing to look forward to let us make the most of deep winter, it may be bleak but there are plenty of fruits from its tree if you shake the branches hard enough.
12th night, Burns Night, Valentines Day - ah, it's all to come! Perk up.

Yee Har!

It's been a smashing Christmas. I have indeed made merry and am now carrying rather a lot more 'baggage' than I would like to and most of that is around the waist. Mind you, it looks like I've got the beginnings of a small flight bag under the chin. So it's time to treat the body as a temple (and not one in a war torn country subject to bombings or the occasional stampede) the cork screw is going away for a month, the remaining chocs are to be melted down and the fridge is to be stocked with mouth watering vegetables. I've decided I shall have to move about a bit more. I can't hack gyms, the smell of sweat and rubber conveyor belts does nothing for me so I may be turning my attention to music and movement, I'm seriously considering the benefits of line dancing....

Jesus Christ. Exactly. The Ladyfriend and I have started a tradition of going to the pictures on Christmas Eve. It's nice. This year we have been looking at a suitable film and thought it might be Eragon but that has received rather bad reviews. Ah, we thought The Nativity would be perfect! Absolutely spot on. But guess what? There isn't a cinema in the area showing it. Not one. Nada. What's that all about? If ever there was going to be a captive audience then surely it would be on Christmas Eve. Shame on them all. If we don't watch out, next year Father Christmas will be wearing a hijab.

Had a lovely time in Amsterdam but the ladyfriend and I have decided to forgo any trips abroad in the future, I was frisked at the airport on the way out and made to shout "Merry Christmas" to a prancing fool at the airport on the way home. I think he was the dutch version of Cilla Black. I scowled at the camera so I imagine I am on the cutting room floor.

Things have been a bit rushed and just a bit much this week so I have not yet put up my photos - I've been ripped off by BP and slandered in court - it's a long story but I hope this will do: click here

Bluebirds sang at my window this morning as I greeting another dawn and another birthday! 36 and still with skin like a princess. I am 4 nines or 12 threes, whatever, I'm not the girl I once were though, I've grown in so many ways but mostly outwards.
The Ladyfriend and I are off to Amsterdam on Thursday to celebrate both of our birthdays, I can't wait, our hotel is conveniently placed for all the major attractions, the floating flower market, the museums and the brothels......not that I like art.
My brother took me to see Billy Bragg on Sunday at the Hackney Empire - what a place, a gorgeous old theatre in a run down part of town. It was a 'Rock against Racism' thing and a lady slapped my lapel with a sticker to that effect. A worthy cause, only something didn't sit right with me. Mr Bragg harped on about the benefits of a multicultural society and how the people of Daggenham who had elected the BNP should embrace their new neighbours from far flung places. A nice idea, thing is Billy has chosen to live on a farm in Devon where the only dark face that he probably sees is that of a fresian cow over a fence post so it's a bit of a 'do as I say and not as I do' thing going on there.
PLEASE NOTE: Lola is not a racialist and some of her best friends like reggae music.

There has been a tornado in London today. In the paper I saw a photo of a ski lift empty and lifeless in a normally busy ski resort. With climate change, will there be "snow in Africa this Christmas time"?

They only need 43 Jonathan, they could knock those off with a stick of rhubarb..."
Geoffrey Boycott on TMS

Can't believe the Ashes result this morning. I know it was a bit wet wanting a draw when winning is everything but to lose, well it just isn't cricket. It's time for young Flintoff to fall on his sword and give up as captain. The ladyfriend and I both agree that being the best player doesn't necessarily make the best captain. Infact, Freddie reminds me of an Edwardian farm hand taking over from the 'Gentleman' who has gone off to war. The only chance we stand of coming away from the Colonies with any scrap of honour is that by some miracle Michael Vaughan can get back on the field and take charge. I daresay we will not catch Michael in a sleeveless vest, hands in his pockets, sporting tattoos and an earing.

Lord I was off to a bad start this morning. I was anxious to catch up on the night's cricket so I put BBC1 on at 7am hoping that in the half hour that I designate to breakfast and 'coming to' I would see the score and highlights. Did I bugger. I grew a different shade of purple with every passing block of five minutes. Whilst that Bill Tumble (or whatever it is) was bumbling over a report about Russian spies I flicked over to ITV to see the final snippet of Kevin Pieterson - I was incandescent with rage. I gave up at 7.30 and ran my bath.
By the way, all this about Russian spies and radiation poisoning. Am I missing something? If what I'm led to believe from James Bond films is true, then passing away in a hospital bed is preferable to some of the ways these dare devil agents might meet their death. I saw one once where James Bond was tied to a table with a laser moving between his legs about to cut him slowly and painfully in half. I would therefore plump for radiation sickness any day. I bet he got a private room, digital tv and 24 hour care. I bet he didn't get a senile old man walking about at night trying to get into bed with him either.