Monday 5th March 2012

Actually I’ve also become columnar and televisual once again. Which I don’t like. I’m on board a publication, apparently, but I feel v. much clinging as railway passengers in India.

The Gay Mother’s 88th Birthday was achieved a week ago last Friday. She elected to spend part of the day at the Eye Hospital owing to  a yellow aura  intermittently interrupting her vision. She’s got lack of blood supply to the eye and is to be scanned.

I hope to goodness she’s not starting to break up.

Speaking of clogged parentals, no word for weeks and weeks of Arjan Bose whose father lies unconscious in Calcutta after a brain haem.

Next day the Gay Mother  bucked and lunched at the newly whooshed pub/restaurant  in the Gay Granny’s old village. Once a fearsome hovel, never darkened by those privately bred, except for the adjoining shop where Granny bought Bronco, which was an unrelenting  ‘hard’ lav paper of yesteryear thought suitable for downstairs Gentlemen’s accommodation.  As first lady of the neighbourhood, patronise the village shop she must but Bronco was the only item certain not to be ‘awff’.

Well, all that couldn’t be more over now. Just look at the graphs below. What styling and detail in a remote corner of our Nation!

And booked up too.

Now I must rush: Klinghoffer with Joshua Baring, who is Jewish through the father. Bit of a worry. Thursday the Blond Multi’s massive 50th at La Pont. Whole restaurant taken over.

I must tell you about the aunts who dined on Saturday and the tremendous taxi tussle and my pleasure with the service so rare when you self-give. Dined also at Bruce MacBain’s where Laura Malcolm launched the steam-oven as a must-have. Quite new to me.

I’ve never got round to Gotterdammerung (no time for umlaut). Nearly a month since…

A Lamb Styling: My Own Gay Mother Birthday Luncheon Choice

The Gay Mother's Sticky Toffee Interpretation