Follow one crying eye on


Oh dear. I just read my last blog. Sorry.

I have re-emerged, in time to go to the theatre last night (excellent Force Majeure at the Donmar Warehouse), to do the housework today (hurrah, just think of the calories consumed), and a bit of shopping (to try and kick-start this year’s Nectar points collection, having used 42,000 of them over Christmas. I am the QUEEN of Nectar!).

I also chirped up enough yesterday to suggest to my family that I might join the Conservative Party and become a local councillor – this in reaction to receiving a letter addressed to me personally from an existing local conservative Councillor (the singing one, although I’m not quite sure that’s relevant to anything), suggesting I put myself forward and enclosing an application form. I felt slightly less ‘special’ when I realised that Mr J had received the same and I am assuming the whole street got them – maybe several through the door of our neighbourly LibDem councillor?

Nevertheless, I thought I would engage my family to assist in making my decision. Sadly, my WhatsApp pic of the Application form with the comment ‘Shall I?’ seemed to meet with a wall of shocked silence followed by a belated ‘Oh lord!’ from my son. They’re no help at all!

This was, of course, a joke on my part. I cannot abide party politics (happy to look at each policy as it comes and even at the overall balance of a manifesto when necessary at Election time, and realise that this is the way our democracy works etc, but I simply can’t nail my colours to one particular mast – at least not one I’ve yet seen) and despite sporting a Conservative Party badge in some recent filming (which it is just possible I will never live down if they use that particular shot) I cannot imagine ever aligning myself with any one of the parties which offer themselves to us on the ballot papers. Even the Loonies, although I do get upset if they don’t stand so that I can at least consider voting for them before plumping for something more mainstream.

No, I’m sorry, but the application form will only be used to produce a spoof entry for my own amusement and then be chucked in the recycling with all the other junk mail.

Hmm, unless perhaps they were to offer me Nectar points… Now, there’s a policy idea for someone.


Follow one crying eye on