I have to welcome two new readers today - one from Red Deer, Alberta and the second from Oak Ridge, Tennessee. How romantic North America is - one thinks of pioneers, covered wagons, Indians and frozen lakes. And those names conjure up vivid images: Canadian buckskin and American oak stands with distant views. I know I'm susceptible to such romanticism, and I love it. It takes me away on dreamlike journeys to the ends of the earth and I couldn't enjoy it more if it was real!
Dombey and Son has had me enraptured for the past two weeks, on Radio 4 in the mornings. Dickens is a huge favourite of mine, and we share a birthday, (though not our ages, Billy, before you say it!). The bleak, spare perfection of his descriptions
and the intimate insight we have into his characters has me mesmerised. I have cried for young Paul, ached for Florence and longed for the come-uppance of Carker. Will Fred Gay re-appear? Who is the mystery woman? Anyway, it's wonderful. This morning Mr Dombey actually said "Mrs. Dombey doesn't understand me." I wonder if this was the first recorded instance of this statement?
Poor Nigella. Everyone seems to be having a pop at her on the weight question. I think she's marvellous, and looks just perfect. (Of course her father is Nigel Lawson, ex-Chancellor from the 1980s, and apparently still going strong as some Lord or other.) In my opinion, she's a great role model: she looks wonderful, very curvy and natural, she loves food and she can cook. And she has a fabulous social life - what more could anyone ask? Of course, the fact that she's married to Charlie Saatchi could be a bit of a downer. I notice he never appears at her dinner parties on TV (and I would recognise him). I wonder why?
Heard this morning on Terry Wogan - there's a man in Argentina campaigning for ugly people to pay less tax so that they can feel better about themselves!! Can someone please explain this to me - I just don't get it.
Parting words from Sir Tel today, "Go easy on the sherry trifle this Christmas." There's no answer to that..