Mozart at bedtime.

So peaceful and just right for bedtime.

Hope you have had a good day.

Sleep well.


Until next time.

24, as you’ve never seen it before.


I love the show and love this. So pleased it’s making a return. Even if I will have to buy it on DVD, because we don’t have SKY. I don’t watch enough television to justify the silly cost of it. [Yorkshire tendencies coming to the fore again there.]

Although, maybe for Jack…?

Laugh your socks off I did.

Beethoven for bedtime…nearly!

A beautiful piece of music. Play it good and loud, knickers to the neighbours, if you have any.

For the fallen R.I.P.

In this, the centenary of WW1, my tribute to a wonderful composer. His music communicates with the soul and manifests the dark side of man.

A fitting tribute to those who fought in the trenches.






Giving birth to a blog.

Blog baby
Blog baby

Well, this is my first attempt at blogging and you would never guess it, would you?
So far I have somehow managed to get a post from a blog that I follow on my main page . Not that it isn’t a lovely article and picture of a cheesecake you understand; but I must have pressed a wrong button at 1.30 am on Sunday morning, as I madly chose to go live. The cheesecake must go, it’s not doing my diet any good. That will teach me for not being able to sleep and choosing to give birth to this strange, and frankly at times, rather scary blog baby.

Starting a blog is a bit like giving birth all over again, only without the screaming and hormones. Although come to think of it that isn’t strictly true. There has been some screaming: rather a lot actually and swearing at my laptop. My hormones are everywhere, except where they should be… not dissimilar to my blog really. And indecisiveness – well I’ll just admit to three changes of theme so far; and don’t get me started on how to insert media in the posts, otherwise I may dissolve into tears, as I’m so emotional.

We all remember what it’s like to be a new parent, don’t we. The sleepless nights, the endless questions, the confusion, the self-doubts and the joy when we finally hit on the right thing and it all falls into place…until the next problem presents itself.

But unlike babies, who sadly don’t come with manuals, blog babies do arrive with some sort of information about them. True, it is written in some strange unintelligible language, that we also have to master. But hey, where would the fun be if you could set up a blog in twenty minutes and be on your way? Much better to fill your hours with frantic typing of posts, deleting them, re-typing them, deleting them again and then starting on something completely different. Finally, we have a polished master-piece to post and we lovingly post it… in the wrong place. But secretly we rather enjoy this masochistic activity called blogging and we’re never happier than when we are talking to ourselves.

Yes, we as new blog parents will have sleepless nights and worry about the wellbeing of our conceptions, even if some of us have created a Frankenstein’s monster. The blogs with a face that only a mother and father could love, will also somehow survive, at the edge of the blog-sphere. We will nurture our blogs and maybe even dote on them. Some of us may even start to obsess about them, which is just as well really, as it’s highly unlikely that anybody else will.

Is there anyone else out there who has just given birth to a blog and wants to compare notes on how to keep it contented, fed and feeling loved? We could start a blog nursery.

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