:: Wounded In Action ::

Busy holidays for me. I didn't go away, but instead spent a couple of days at my Mum's clearing out the loft before she moves house in 2 weeks' time. My compensation for this was a couple of stonking roast dinners: Pheasant with root vegetables roasted in red wine on Easter Saturday and then traditional roast lamb on the Sunday. When I pitched up at my Dad's the following day I almost had to refuse the succulent beef on offer. The rest of the week was spent cleaning and preparing for a revival of The Way We Live. On Friday, my Dad and I pitched up chez Maman to pick up the numerous boxes of books I had accumulated over my College years. Now having brought them back to London, I have (almost) all my worldly goods in one place for the first time in 10 years...

The play went OK, but at the final performance, over-confidence proved to be my downfall. As I strutted off the stage, I clocked my shin on a wayward speaker and fell flat on my face. A plangent crimson graze now adorns my lower leg, like some cheeky UDI.

So, what has happened in my absence? Other than the anticipated shit/fan interface in the office when I arrived back yesterday, not much. The Paschal casualties include a childhood TV staple, and another, whose unpleasant jingoistic rants have long since garnered my disfavour.

Oh, and BBC2 celebrates its 40th birthday. Long live those ker-azy idents!