To The Boy In The Blue Knit Cat - Day 9

Big, handsome, concerned Bobby.

To The Boy In The Blue Knit Cap - Day 8

Don't wory, Bobby, I think we all want to strangle the little squit.

To The Boy In The Blue Knit Cap - Day 7

May I read your hand, Det. Goren?

To The Boy In The Blue Knit Cap - Day 6

This one is just because I love it.

To The Boy In The Blue Knit Cap - Day 5

Bobby looks surprised. Well, of course - the stupid girl's interested in someone else!

To The Boy In The Blue Knit Cap - Day 4

He's in the background, but Bobby still dominates the scene.

Are you being served?

Twice in two days I've had the same response at shops which were out of stock of the items I wanted to buy.

Do they really think that saying, "We should be getting some in tomorrow" is helpful? Do they think it will placate us? Do they think we have nothing better to do than go back tomorrow when we have made an effort to get there today? And even if we do manage to get back the next day, chances are we'll be told, "There wasn't any of that in today's delivery" or even " We haven't had a chance to unpack today's delivery yet". With, of course, the compulsory addition of, "Try again tomorrow".

Or of course, I could try someone else tomorrow. And next week. And forever.

I AM HERE TODAY, DINGBATS. YOU ARE HERE EVERY DAY BECAUSE YOU WORK HERE. I AM HERE BECAUSE I AM NOT WORKING TODAY AT EARNING THE MONEY TO BUY THE STUFF THAT KEEPS YOU IN A JOB, AND YOUR EMPLOYER IN BUSINESS.

Anyone else have a "favourite" phrase that gets unthinkingly repeated by the unhelpful trying to help?

To The Boy In The Blue Knit Cap - Day 3

Post 4000!!!

First Bobby invades the guy's space, then he looks as if he's about to kiss him.

Post 3999 - The Missing Link

The new Criminal Minds spinoff, Suspect Behaviour, has brought Janeane Garofalo to the small screen every week.

Now the Mother Ship is returning with Jeanne Tripplehorn. Any suggestions for who's missing?

To The Boy In The Blue Knit Cap - Day 2

Are you sure you want to say that to Bobby?

To The Boy In The Blue Knit Cap - Day 1

Bobby looks incredulous already, and the case has barely started.

Return of Goren and Eames

But sadly not OUR Goren and Eames.

The BBC has a new crime drama set in the1880s called Ripper Street, and tonight's episode featured characters called Lucy Eames and Deborah Goren.

Coincidence? I think not!

Icarus - Day 12

What was that word, Bobby?

Icarus - Day 11

Such a ridiculous little man, thinking he could best our Bobby.

Icarus - Day 10

Starting to have real fun.

Icarus - Day 9

Starting to put it all together.

Another One Bites The Dust

The other day I saw an obituary for the actor Jon Finch. It was the first I'd heard that he'd died.

He may not be a name that you are immediately familiar with, but anyone who studied Macbeth at school or college will probably have seen Polanski's film, in which Finch starred as the murderous king.

He first invaded my teenage conscious when he starred in a Sci-Fi TV show, in which the aliens had deformed little fingers. He was a friendly invader. We all had a crush on him, especially my friend Marian, who had deformed little fingers...

In those wonderful days free from celebrity secrecy and stalking, when I looked him up in the phone book - I found him. And I phoned him. I have no idea what we talked about, but it was laid back and friendly.

From his obit I learned that he tended to choose one plum part a year to maintain his lifestyle, refusing all others. He apparently turned down the role of James Bond, which was then offered to Roger Moore. Finch would have been a much younger and dishier 007. He also turned down The Three Musketeers and John Hurt's role in Alien. But he did accept a part in Alfred Hitchcock's Frenzy.

Thus passed my first brush with celebrity, alone in his flat and almost forgotten. Sad.

The Trouble With Helicopters

Can anyone see the rationale of letting helicopters fly over the centre of a huge metropolis?

Well, I think that after today the powers-that-be might rethink that one.

At 8am, in the middle of the rush hour, a helicopter failed to see a tall crane attached to a tall building-in-progress because of mist, hit it, demolishing the arm, and crashing nearby in a busy street surrounded by railway lines, an underground station, a massive bus station and the MI5 building (that's the secret service). Miraculously only the pilot and one passer-by were killed. And for the first time ever, the crane driver was late for work, and was not in the cabin that was sliced in two.

I found a compilation video to give a flavour of the mayhem.

Icarus - Day 8

Bobby is so naive about the psychiatric process - I mean, didn't he teach us about transference?

Icarus - Day 7

Don't think much of that bracelet...

A Fond Farewell

On a bleak day to match the occasion, wet and bitterly cold, today we laid Alex to rest.

His mother had arranged a humanist ceremony, with songs to rock to - she had us bopping in the aisles, "shakin' that ass", as some of Alex's favourite songs were played, finishing up with a tear-jerking "You'll Never Walk Alone", the anthem of Alex's beloved Liverpool Football Club. Even the dog was there.

Afterwards there was a party at the hall where Alex's 18th birthday party was held in 2011.

Tears and smiles mingled as we remembered the boy who affected so many lives without ever moving from his wheelchair.

It was a privilege to be a part of his life.

Icarus - Day 6

You really expect him to believe that?

Icarus - Day 5

Bobby bums a ciggie.

Goodbye Amber

During the night my little calico cat Amber died.



In her latter days, she was quite sweet. When she was younger, not so much.

When I saw her in the pet shop, she was asleep. I'd always wanted a tortoiseshell with quirky markings, and there she was, a black chin making her face look as if it was smiling, a lightning flash across her nose. I brought her and little silver tabby Jaspa home in May 1994. I estimated their birthdays as 21st and 28th March.

The first charming thing Amber did was carry her toys round and drop them in things - the bin, my school bag... But as she grew, she turned into the typical grumpy, naughty tortie. As my cat family grew, she continued to assert herself as boss. Trying to get past her elicited a swear and a swipe. The others were in fear of her. Even as her physical strength waned, they would still hesitate to pass her, eventually making a dash for it.

When she developed thyroid problems a few years ago, she didn't respond well to the medication (largely because I had a hell of a time getting it down her) and eventually she had to have a thyroidectomy.

Then she developed kidney problems, which is apparently not uncommon with thyroid sufferers. Every six weeks she had to have an injection. Her weight stayed fairly constant, sometimes even increasing a little, which was encouraging.

But over the last couple of days she deteriorated rapidly. She started to go out into the garden more than usual, even venturing out in the dark on Thursday night. I had to coax her in for fear the foxes would see her as easy prey. Maybe she was looking for a place to die.

Yesterday she failed to browse through everyone else's food bowls, and barely licked the special extra dishes I gave her. She was very wobbly on her feet, but she still came all the way upstairs to see me. I gave her an extra special cuddle. I thought I'd take her to the vet's on Tuesday. Then I amended that to Monday. By bedtime I'd decided to take her this morning. But she lost her fight for life during the night.

Bizarrely, I was twice woken by the ringing of mystery bells. I sort of felt I knew what I was going to find when I went down to the kitchen this morning, which is where the cats sleep.

So she did go to the vet's this morning, but only to be sent away for cremation.

Bye bye dear girl. I wish you could have made it to 19.

Amber, 28th March 1994 - 12th January 2013

Icarus - Day 4

Boby's looking slightly amused. This was a happy episode for him.

Icarus - Day 3

Thank you for another hand display, darling.

Do You Trust This Man?

Apparently research has shown that, when shown a series of photographs, people find blue-eyed men with thin faces untrustworthy.

And the converse was also true. Men with brown eyes and broader faces were considered trustworthy.



I can relate to that.

Apparently so could Liza.

Icarus - Day 2

Hello, brown eyes.

Astronomers, Astro-physicists and Rock Stars

We Brits are a funny bunch. Not only do our rock stars carry on performing into their dotage. Some actually sashay into alternative high-flying roles.

Take Professor Brian Cox. He started life with a group call D-Ream, which had a number 1 hit in the 1990s with "Things Can Only Get Better".

Now he presents popular scientific TV programmes about the Solar System and the universe. Currently he's hosting Stargazing Live on TV - watched by staff at NASA!

Then there's Dr Brian May. Yes, that one. The one who was with Queen. He left his academic studies to play with that band, but he returned to university in middle age and is now a respected astro-physicist. He too has appeared on the above programme.

I have to take issue with Dr May, nowever. He insists it's possible to stargaze in London.

Yes, maybe if like you one is rich enough to have a proper observatory in the roof or the garden. But trust me, on a bog standard telescope or binoculars standing in the front or back garden, you get to see the moon, the odd glimpse of Venus or Jupiter, and the lights of a distant plane.

That's if there's ever a break in the clouds...

Icarus - Day 1

I love to see Bobby playing.

Cadaver - Day 10

This may not be working for you, Bobby, but it's working for me!

Cadaver - Day 9

Not a happy bunny - but look at that neck!

Cadaver - Day 8

Watch out - Bobby means business!

Cadaver - Day 7

Don't look so concerned, Bobby.

The Odd Couple

With lots of people still off work on holiday, and the final day of the school holidays being warm and dry, there was quite a crowd at the zoo.

They oohed and aahed over the tiger, who paced and posed before them, and crashed out in true cat style.








They smiled as they snapped the lions, especially when one rather large cub sat on the other, almost as if she were trying to mate with her, as their mother looked disapprovingly on.






But no one was taking much notice of the people most used to being the centre of attention, and having their pictures taken.

And trying not to be intrusive I only got some rather blurred shots. But there she was in her black furry hat with ear flaps, and there was he, his crinkly grey hair.

The odd couple.






Helena Bonham Carter and Tim Burton.

Cadaver - Day 6

Lucky pen!

Pain and Pleasure

Christmas dinner this year has turned out to be rather an expensive affair. I went down to my friend's to celebrate with her and her mother. We sat around the kitchen table on rather hard wooden chairs. I wriggled a bit, but didn't think anything of it till the next day, when my back was killing me. The sacro-iliac had locked. I've been trying to coax everything back to normal, but with no luck. My Christmas break has been pretty much a write-off. So today I phoned the osteopath, not expecting to get an appointment any time soon at this busy practice. But I was in luck, and at 10am I was in the treatment room with Habib, parading my pale flabby flesh so he could see where the problem lay. It turns out that, since my last visit six years ago (really?) they have introduced acupuncture into their repertoire. So this was me (only fatter):

A few pinpricks and a lot of painful clicks later, my mobility was improved, my bank account diminished by £30 (quite cheap for an osteopath, £40-£50 is more usual) and I came away armed with a further appointment for next week.

Meanwhile, one of the nation's favourite ad campaigns has reached new heights (depths?)

The car insurance comparison site GoCompare has been running ads for several years featuring a Welsh tenor singing the Go Compare song to the tune of the wartime song "Over There". They have now decided to set various celebs on the hapless man with ever more inventive deadly weapons.

But the latest has attracted the co-operation of one of the world's most eminent scientists.

Enjoy:

Cadaver - Day 5

One of those irresistibly handsome snaps of an irresistibly handsome man.

Cadaver - Day 4

Smile!

Cadaver - Day 3

It's that pose with the arms filling out the suit again...

School Sport

At school, I was really unsporty. Hockey in the freezing cold was only slightly less of a torture than the cross country running they made us do when it was too cold to play hockey. Purple and orange knees don't suit teenage girls. Netball and athletics in summer were OK if you could run, jump or aim a big ball. Swimming was fine if you could get out of the pool and make it to the toilets before puking up.

So when options became available, I went for it. Ice skating and horseriding were great, but I only made it on to those lists at 15. So I opted for diving. It took place at the National Sports Centre at Crystal Palace:

There was a dedicated diving pool (much warmer than the swimming pool), 10ft deep at the edges, 16ft in the middle.

I was already scared of heights, so I could just about jump from the 5m board, but couldn't dive from it. I limited myself to the 1m and 3m springboards. Pikes, backward and inward dives were as advanced as I got.

We had a tutor for these classes, whose name was George Rackham. We came to realise he was actually an Olympic diving coach. As a warm-up he had us shoot ourselves feet-first down to the bottom of the pool. We would have to lie first on one side, then on the other, and do pedalling motions that made us turn round like wheels in the water.

If there were due to be televised diving competitions later in the day, we helped them set up the cameras by diving down past the round underwater windows where the film crews were.

So if anyone catches me watching Tom Daley's new TV programme about diving that starts next week, it's purely to appreciate the diving, not his muscular young body.

(How the hell does he keep those swimming trunks up when he hits the water? I broke my bikini straps once diving in.)

I looked up George online the other day, and found that he wrote some books on diving that are still available.

What surprised me, however, was that he had also introduced another water sport to the UK:

I suppose our wheelie swimming was an elementary form of synchronised swimming. Never occurred to me till now.

George will be long gone now, but I remember him fondly, and I imagine everyone who had dealings with him will feel the same.

Cadaver - Day 2

How does a grown man in a responsible job manage to look like a naughty boy so often?

Cadaver - Day 1

I think you'll have to move that seat back, long legs.