125. Steak and Chips

Sometimes, just for fun you understand, I try to decide what I would have for my last meal. The Alabama Institute of Corrections used to have a website on which they posted all the 'last meal' requests of the poor mentally challenged black men they murdered with their gruesome capital punishment habit - and it made for rather fascinating reading. Most of them wanted a cheeseburger, which is understandable, as cheeseburgers are both delicious and comforting. Some just wanted a pint of ice-cream.

Anyway, I usually come back to steak and chips. I'd want my Mum's Chicken Liver Pate to start with, then an entrecote steak cooked medium rare, skinny chips, bearnaise, french mustard and maybe a small rocket salad (though it might be too late to worry about eating healthily). Then I'd want cheese. And all of it washed down with as much Pomerol as I could drink.

But what about roast chicken? Spaghetti Bolognese? Lobster Bisque? Fish and chips? Eggs Benedict?

It's a good thing that I'm unlikely ever to face the death penalty (although I shouldn't speak too soon) because I wouldn't be able to decide on my last meal. Do you think that my indecision would postpone the inevitable? Or would they just give me the consensus choice - a cheeseburger, a Coke and a pint of ice-cream? Actually, you know, that might not be so bad...

124. Birthday Season

With some notable exceptions, the birthdays of all my favourite people occur between the 14th of October and the 21st of November. It's a happy, festive, EXPENSIVE six weeks.

(The notable exceptions are: the 10th of May, the 20th of May, the 22nd of June, the 14th of July, the 21st of July, the 23rd of September and the 12th of December)

Birthday Season is a little different this year as we wait for the birth of BabyBF, but the best news is that he or she will be a Scorpio, born within the Birthday Season, and therefore adding a whole new lovely day of celebration.

There are those who believe that celebrating birthdays is deeply childish. There are those who simply don't acknowledge their birthdays. Some don't like them, and find them difficult. I strongly disagree with the first, respect and rather admire the second, and sympathize with the last. I used to love my birthday, and now it makes me cry. I think it's because I"m so OLD and have, as yet, achieved SO LITTLE. But that may all be about to change...

Anyway, Birthday Season is a cheerful time in a part of the year that can seem dreary and dull. It gives me a chance to give people squeezes, presents and glasses of champagne - and really, what could be nicer?

123. Power Ballad Fridays

Working in Children's Publishing used to involve the weekly stuffing of 500+ envelopes, as we sent proof copies of new books, and letters, and various sales materials out to the booksellers. It's BORING. So every Friday afternoon, when most people had found some excuse or other to go home early, my colleagues and I would organize ourselves into a mini-production line, and put on the Power Ballads. This was my idea.

The great thing about Power Ballads is that most women and gay men know the words, particularly to the classics, like Bonnie Tyler's Total Eclipse of the Heart, and Alone by Heart, which means that the lip-synching is of a very high standard. And as Children's Publishing is staffed almost exclusively by women and gay men, we were onto a winner.

So we'd put the old CD into the machine, crank it up as high as we dared, and spend a couple of hours making fools of ourselves, laughing hysterically, and stuffing envelopes. Made the time fly by, and then it would be time to go to the pub. Perfect.

So today, in the solitude of my eyrie, I resurrected Power Ballad Fridays. It was killer, and it got me past a little creative block I was experiencing. As a pastime, I highly recommend it.

122. Angry Birds

No, not angry birds, as in the famous Hitchcock movie, Angry Birds, which is a game I play on my iPhone.

The basic principle is that there are these frogs and they have built houses round themselves made of steel, wood and glass. You are given a selection of birds (angry) with which to smash up the houses and kill the frogs. The more damage you can inflict, the more points you get - and if you can kill all the birds and smash the whole house with just one bird you get three gold stars. Simple. Brilliant.

It is, it should go without saying, monstrously addictive. I'm on Level 11, Game 9. I hope there are lots of levels because I never want to stop. Angry Birds is fairly mindless, but getting those three stars does involve both skill and strategy so it's always possible to take things to a higher level.

I haven't been converted to what I will refer to, archaically, as 'computer games' because I can't be bothered with all the hardware. But the great thing about games on the iPhone is that it's all there, in your pocket. Angry Birds is the best game I've found so far (although Harbour Master can be quite diverting) and it's probably just as well. I wouldn't want to let modern technology get in the way of my telly watching, now, would I?

121. Pashley Bicycles

Riding a Pashley is like driving a Rolls-Royce. It's smooth and elegant, you're quite high up, and everybody looks at you as you go past.

Once you get past the old-fashioned looks (and weight) the bike is fitted with all sorts of modern gizmos that make life easier, like disc brakes, so it is not in fact exactly like riding an iron bicycle from 1913. Though when you're trying to go uphill it can feel like that.

They're no good for speed, or weaving through traffic, and they have three gears and brakes so their hipster rating is low. But for me riding my Pashley is an intensely joyful experience. I live in a calmer, more civilized world when I'm on my Pashley, and taxis don't try to kill me with the same malevolence that they keep for the single-speeds.

There are lots of 'retro' bikes out there now, but Pashley have been making the same bikes, by hand, since 1926. When the system will allow me, I'll put up a picture - because apart from anything else, and perhaps most importantly, these bikes are BEAUTIFUL.

120. Otters

According to Radio 4 this morning, what was recently a shortage of otters has become a surplus. Some of the rivers in Wales and the West Country are at Saturation Point apparently - there's no more room on the riverbanks. And I say, Hooray!

Otters are lovely. In a cruel twist of fate the only county in England not to have an otter population is Kent, but that must mean that Suffolk and Norfolk have lots. So when I eventually go to live up there I will be able to make friends with otters and watch their babies play in the early morning mist.

There is, in fact, an otter sanctuary in Bungay, Suffolk, that I forced Herself to let me visit a few years ago. She sat in the car reading the paper while I went round the sanctuary, talking to all the otters and finding out the otter news. I had nearly got round them all when I became aware of a strange sound - it was Herself banging her forehead on the car horn, trying to get my attention. It worked. She will not be allowed to watch the babies playing in the mist.

So, the otters are back and swimming in a river near you. What are otter babies called, do you think? Otlets?

119. Home Movies

As I write, Herself is editing some home movie footage she took 10 years ago. One particularly difficult sequence shows Herself, Myself and The Artist - all quite drunk - singing VERY LOUDLY to a medley of classics, including Dancing Queen. It's very funny, and equally AWFUL.

But she's also got footage of the Hound the very first time we met her. She's a little fat dumpling, chewing my fingers. She's got footage of her nephew when he was 5 weeks old. He might like to see how cute he was. There's stuff of the Small Brother, when he was actually quite small, rather than ironically small.

It's a nostalgic trip. We've all improved over the years (I was truly frightening to behold back then, I do heartily apologize to anybody who knew me) but that is certainly a subjective view. It's great to have it.

Of course Herself's family have footage of Herself when she was a fat little dumpling. And there's footage of her grandparents and her Mum and Dad when they were tender young things. It's all in sepia and is like treasure trove. Photos, footage, it's all good stuff. I have clutched my photos of my Granny to me over the last weeks and they have been a genuine comfort. So I'm going out this weekend with my camera. It's time to take some snaps.