My mother, Lilian, was 100 on the last day of last year. A decent age to reach.She received a congratulatory card from Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth 2 (which nowadays the forthcoming centenarian's relatives have to apply for via the Ministry of Pensions) and, there no longer being a telegram service, she received an imitation telegram from the Pensions Minister.
Well, the Prime Minister was probably abroad: Scotland, perhaps.
Most of the family were able to attend the celebratory get-together and we have finally managed to transfer the digital camera pictures onto the computer: these include one of mother with granddaughter (holding great grandson), son, grandson and great granddaughter (holding cat) which I publish just in case any old friend or distant relative should chance upon it.
Although physically frail, Lilian is mentally as sharp as a razor and, despite poor eyesight, still keeps up with the snooker on television.
She had a good birthday and thoroughly enjoyed all the attention
GETTING ON A BIT.
The process of ageing, or getting on a bit, can be a bugger. The words creaky, cranky and invisible may well spring to the mind of any getting on a bit reader who still has a mind, or any spring. So maybe it is because I am getting on a bit - though I don't feel especially old - that I find myself increasingly irked by much of the twaddle currently purporting to be entertainment on television. There's way too much reality bunkum; too many copycat competition shows featuring publicity seeking celebs; too many repeats (including those cheekily describing an old show as revisited); far too many cooking programmes, antiques programmes, auctioneering programmes, and property rubbish where, when they are not tarting up tat for profit, people are swanning all over the place looking at properties they have not the slightest intention of buying.
"Mabel and Maurice eventually decided not to purchase the twenty-seven-roomed mansion in Ascot and unfortunately were outbid for the two-up-two-down pied-a-terre in France. They are remaining in their mobile home (think caravan) while they review their options."
Know what? I really dont give a toss. Do you? Does anybody?
So I have become more discriminating in my television viewing habits of late. I am no longer bothered when Mark Harmon's acting haircut fails to register in a couple of episodes of NCIS, or David Caruso's sunglasses upstage everybody by being donned as he enters, rather than when he leaves, through the French windows in CSI Miami.
I don't care when Mac, of CSI New York, is stalked and endangered throughout several episodes by a 333 lunatic straight out of Sax Rohmer.
(What? Sax who? Oh, an old thriller writer...Dr.Fu Manchu...see Wikipedia...)
Furthermore, I do not believe that there is a Middle Eastern terrorist under every American bed just waiting to creep out and join the vast Muslim alliance that will huff and puff until it blows all their skyscrapers down. Hell, there were never any Reds under the beds, either, so stop being so bloody melodramatic.
Besides, there's still quite a lot to be cheerful about.
Well, there is on our tele.
On our tele we still have Harry Hill's TV Burp and Justin Fletcher on CCTV and darned good plays like Brian Fillis's The Curse of Steptoe, featuring darned good actors like Phil Davis and Jason Isaacs as Wilfrid Brambell and Harry H. Corbett. We still have Russell T. Davies's Torchwood and we still have splendid soaps and excellent costume dramas.
University Challenge, Mastermind and Fry's QI remain constant pleasures if you like that sort of thing: we do.
There are even some pretty good, albeit foul-mouthed, comedians still to be seen.
And, without doubt, getting on a bit is still preferable to the alternative.
"Mabel and Maurice eventually decided not to purchase the twenty-seven-roomed mansion in Ascot and unfortunately were outbid for the two-up-two-down pied-a-terre in France. They are remaining in their mobile home (think caravan) while they review their options."
Know what? I really dont give a toss. Do you? Does anybody?
So I have become more discriminating in my television viewing habits of late. I am no longer bothered when Mark Harmon's acting haircut fails to register in a couple of episodes of NCIS, or David Caruso's sunglasses upstage everybody by being donned as he enters, rather than when he leaves, through the French windows in CSI Miami.
I don't care when Mac, of CSI New York, is stalked and endangered throughout several episodes by a 333 lunatic straight out of Sax Rohmer.
(What? Sax who? Oh, an old thriller writer...Dr.Fu Manchu...see Wikipedia...)
Furthermore, I do not believe that there is a Middle Eastern terrorist under every American bed just waiting to creep out and join the vast Muslim alliance that will huff and puff until it blows all their skyscrapers down. Hell, there were never any Reds under the beds, either, so stop being so bloody melodramatic.
Besides, there's still quite a lot to be cheerful about.
Well, there is on our tele.
On our tele we still have Harry Hill's TV Burp and Justin Fletcher on CCTV and darned good plays like Brian Fillis's The Curse of Steptoe, featuring darned good actors like Phil Davis and Jason Isaacs as Wilfrid Brambell and Harry H. Corbett. We still have Russell T. Davies's Torchwood and we still have splendid soaps and excellent costume dramas.
University Challenge, Mastermind and Fry's QI remain constant pleasures if you like that sort of thing: we do.
There are even some pretty good, albeit foul-mouthed, comedians still to be seen.
And, without doubt, getting on a bit is still preferable to the alternative.
HARRY POTTER AND THE HALF BLOOD PRINCE.
Yippee! Here we go again!
The film Harry Potter and the Half Cut Prince (Does ask for it, doesn't it, J.K.) is due for release on the 21st of November. It is being directed by David Yates. .
Additional characters will include Jim Broadbent as Horace Slughorn: I had Ian McNeice in mind but Jim Broadbent is very good. There is also some talk (if the part is not inexplicably scrapped) of Bill Nighy being cast as the new Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour: I would have chosen Jim Carter but Bill Nighy is very good.
Well it's Easter now.
There will be Christmas stuff on the shop shelves next week.
It'll be September before you can blink.
The film Harry Potter and the Half Cut Prince (Does ask for it, doesn't it, J.K.) is due for release on the 21st of November. It is being directed by David Yates. .
Additional characters will include Jim Broadbent as Horace Slughorn: I had Ian McNeice in mind but Jim Broadbent is very good. There is also some talk (if the part is not inexplicably scrapped) of Bill Nighy being cast as the new Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour: I would have chosen Jim Carter but Bill Nighy is very good.
Well it's Easter now.
There will be Christmas stuff on the shop shelves next week.
It'll be September before you can blink.
LARK RISE TO CANDLEFORD. (BBC1)
This fine series came to an end on Easter Day. Faultless sets, direction and acting. I even came to tolerate Laura referring to her parents as Mar and Par.
By the time it was over there was scarcely a dry eye in the house.
By the time it was over there was scarcely a dry eye in the house.
THE No.1 LADIES' DETECTIVE AGENCY. (BBC1)
I thoroughly enjoyed Alexander McCall Smith's novel about Precious Ramotswe setting up the first, the only and therefore the No.1 Ladies' Detective Agency in Botswana and was eager to see the television version of it.
Well, nobody ever adapted difficult books more skilfully and sensitively for the screen than the gifted writer/director Anthony Minghella, so of course it was a delight.
More than that I have little to say except that Anthony's death at the age of 54 has stunned the Isle of Wight He was born and bred here and unfailingly made public mention of it when collecting numerous awards.
Our kindest thoughts go out to the family of this much respected, gentle man.
He will be sadly missed.
Well, nobody ever adapted difficult books more skilfully and sensitively for the screen than the gifted writer/director Anthony Minghella, so of course it was a delight.
More than that I have little to say except that Anthony's death at the age of 54 has stunned the Isle of Wight He was born and bred here and unfailingly made public mention of it when collecting numerous awards.
Our kindest thoughts go out to the family of this much respected, gentle man.
He will be sadly missed.
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