Please don’t tell me that you don’t have a junk drawer. That you are one of those people who says, “there is a place for everything.” Yes, in the junk drawer. I come from a long line of junk drawer families. It is in my DNA. My mother was forever saying, “look in the brown drawer,” and invariably whatever I was looking for would be there. I am always finding things that don’t have a specific place, so they go in the junk drawer. Usually before reaching the drawer they live at the bottom of the stairs waiting to be taken upstairs in the hope that I just might find a place for them. Of course I don’t so they live upstairs on the banisters for a while, then get taken back downstairs to the junk drawer. If you don’t have a junk drawer what do you do with your thingamajigs?

Today, as promised is Day 1 of my new schedule — sadly it is without yoga or pilates because yesterday I bent down the wrong way and my back went into spasm. I realise that you are running out of sympathy for me, the boiler, the tooth, the front door lock and now my back. It’s ok I can’t see or hear you so I can pretend that you are empathising.
My first task is to tackle the thingamajigs that have lain for many years in the junk drawer. I know I am going to come across Aunt Billee’s ashes. I had kept some of them in an envelope since 1992 when she died in readiness to take to China (highly unlikely now) as she had always wanted to visit China. I did once try to send them to Israel when my cousins were going there but DHL rejected them.
I am also preparing the house for the return of Toby and his girlfriend Linda who have been self isolating in their Air b & b for 2 weeks so they can return home. We are all excited, but it does mean that life, as I know it is going to change – again. Actually, I have quite enjoyed this month of solitude. Slouching around the house in my pj’s, leaving the toilet door open, walking around naked — no embarrassing groans from the animals however I did catch the neighbour opposite grabbing a sneaky look. He must be desperate or just very bored which I can well understand. Peeking at my rapidly going south saggy body might well be an amusing distraction from the monotony of his two kids and the television. Honestly once I was a size 10 with perky breasts, a flat stomach and quite passable legs. Fond memories.
I digress, yet again. Think I shall call this a ‘Ronny Corbet’ moment. Some of the Brits from my generation will understand. I also have to curb talking to myself which has definitely increased over the past 4 weeks. I have explained to the various objects with whom I have developed quite a meaningful relationship that things will change from Wednesday and most of them understand. The spoons however were not so amenable and there were quite a few tears in the cutlery drawer.
I have the table tennis game ready courtesy of Amazon (being politically correct in the Coronaviris era is a little difficult) The lawnmower is aching to be used and my hair is more than ready for Linda’s colour application so I can regain my somewhat youthful appearance – one can always hope.
I was feeling a little nostalgic yesterday listening to BBC Radio 4 Loose Ends and remembering my time producing the show with Ned Sherrin. I can hardly believe it was 18 years ago and that Ned died in 2007. Every Saturday I would get up at 7 and not return home to around 2 pm. Tod was in charge of the boys and I only found out a few years ago that they used to run riot every Saturday morning, raiding the chocolate hiding places and playing non-stop play station while my lovely husband lazed in bed, read the papers and smoked cigarettes. Apparently about 30 mins before my return he would galvanise the boys saying “come on quick let’s get this house in order before mum returns.” and I was never the wiser. The boys said they looked forward to those Saturday morning.

Ned was a legend in so many ways but not the easiest man to work with. That said he was definitely the most consummate presenter I have ever worked for. He wrote all his own scripts in long hand made sure that he had read the guests books, attended their shows, watched their films and listened to their music before the show. Which made my job incredibly easy.
I remember on my first day I very nervous as I was a huge Loose Ends fan. We were still live then and editing feature inserts for the show on tape. Ned was sitting at the desk where the tape recorder was situated, and I politely asked him if he would mind moving for a moment while I cut the tape. His answer was classic, “I am a creature of habit, I do not move, you are welcome to lean over me to edit.” Another classic; I would be testing the microphones and head phones pre transmission and I would say to Ned, “just testing that you can hear me.” And he would answer, ” I can hear you just fine, but I do not want to hear you during the show !” Loved working on that show.
I will leave you today with a wonderful Dr Suess quote that I found which is so apt for our current situation
“Sometimes you will never know the value of a moment until becomes a memory.”
“Let’s be safe out there”
Of course I have a junk drawer. Actually 3.
I’d like to remind you that as a faithful reader of your blog, you have NOT enjoyed the last four weeks of isolation. Glad Toby is coming home!
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Really – it’s that bloody short term memory again – I guess because today was quite nice. Ask me about yesterday and I go blank
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Well done. A lovely stroll memory lane. I think we are all, in our solitude, recalling lost joys. I know I am. The tears flow.
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I know how apt was the Dr Seuss quote
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We can absolutely picture you! (With Sally)
My house has many of these drawers.
Xx Shaofan
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I think I can imagine
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I have several junk drawers, all of which are on the list for sorting during the isolation. I just haven’t found y way to doing it just yet…….. I like your recollections of Loose Ends. We radio producers who worked with presenters who had their own quirky ways of doing things would have many a tale to tell. The one that drove me maddest was the one for whom I prepared detailed briefs which he would then ignore completely. missing some of the key interesting things I had found out about the interviewee.
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