Children in Need.

I forgot to mention yesterday that the Nursery 'Slumber Party' was in support of Children in Need this year. Luckily I was reminded when I dropped Grandson off this morning, added my name to the list and gave a donation. It's such a good idea, and the little darlings did look lovely. Even the Nursery Ladies were joining in: one of them had, very bravely, travelled to work on the train from Shoreham in her bright red pyjamas. And she is a large lady! I hope she was carrying a collecting tin, because she deserved everyone's support. It's a very good cause, and one dear to Terry Wogan's heart, so it gets my vote. The only other charity I regularly give to is the NSPCC, because I cannot bear children being badly treated or abused in any way. Just the thought of it makes me feel physically sick, especially when you consider that most of the ill treatment or abuse is perpetrated by parents or close family members. I have embarrassed my children many times by 'interfering' when I see a child being abused, hit or shouted at by its parents - what a world we live in!

I'm listening to a short play on Radio 4 as I type, with the lovely Bill Nighy. His voice is one of those treacly jobs that I can't resist. I also heard a bit of Under Milk Wood this morning, read by Richard Burton, on Desert Island Discs. This is one of the things on my Christmas list, along with a digital radio (I'm fed up with trying to tune in my old radio), the original "West Side Story" film score on cd, and a docking system for my Ipod. Not that I really want to think about Christmas just yet.

I'm yawning because of Grandson waking, as usual, at 5.45am. He bounced around a bit in the bed, ate a ginger biscuit, and then informed me that he wasn't tired any more and wanted to go downstairs. That's how come we were watching Pinocchio at 7am...