I’m going to try and get this posted before 2am tomorrow morning.  Adjusting my schedule.  Washed my hair – help!  I mean, what can one say?  Unkempt is probably the word.  Overgrown and 2/3 tone.  That’s about it.  Solution?  Avoid mirrors at all costs!

Tempted to pull on the same ‘uniform’ everyday – always one to keep things for good, at the best of times, but if there is no exposure to the public, what does it matter?  One thing, though, my jumpers are bobbling terribly!  Anyone else having that problem?  I have spent the best part of ten minutes pulling bits off the one I’m wearing and I have another needing desperate attention lying on my bed.  It is addictive, though, like popping the air pockets on bubble wrap.  Enough.  Move away from the jumper!

I have Steve Wright on in the background, although he has let me down this week.  As he, repeatedly, mentioned his contact email and text on Monday, it dawned on me that I should write in and ask him to give Trish-Trash a shout-out. Nothing to lose so that’s exactly what I did. As an afterthought, I asked him to play a record for me – Even the Bad Times are Good by The Tremeloes.  You don’t know it?  Google it.  It’s the perfect song for now and, funnily enough, was the first single I ever bought.  Pause for a minute.  I do have a bit of a problem with that fact.  It was released in 1967 so I must have been all of 7, going on 8.  Firstly, how did I have any money and, secondly, I was hardly allowed to walk ‘down the town’ to buy it?!  On the other hand …  No, Pop must have bought it for me.  Very advanced (of course), I did love music and my records from a young age – well, 7, obviously!  Where was I?

The upshot is don’t write in to Steve Wright.  Not only has he not mentioned Trish-Trash or played my perfect record but I spent the whole of Monday afternoon glued to the radio – as did Shona and Tanys (Manny gave up and Becca hates Steve Wright!) – and most of Tuesday afternoon, too.  To be fair, the majority of his ‘shout-outs’ are for NHS workers, which is understandable but, notably, all those selected end by saying how much they love the show or how great he is.  I didn’t do that.  (“Hey, Steve, loving the show …” right this second!).  I just couldn’t get my fingers to type those words.

Writing this, now, I haven’t, yet, ventured out for my daily walk.  Wish I did live on my country estate then I could just open the door but, as I have said before, the narrow, little road this cottage is on leads down to the fields and a very popular country walk.  It is deceptively populated, too, so there is a constant flow of other beings.  That said, I prefer to drive the five minutes into St Andrews and the deserted beach – which I will do early evening, as is my wont.  I have never liked walking with lots of other people and, many years ago now, Wilby and I learned exactly how to avoid them – choose meal times when nobody else is about!  Perfect.  We, particularly, liked walking of a summer evening as the sun was going down but, admittedly, sometimes I would misjudge the fall of darkness and wish I carried a torch.

Avoiding the news and trying to occupy my mind and thoughts with anything other than COVID-19, I did turn on Question Time, yesterday evening.  Bad move.  It was just wall-to-wall doom and gloom but the most sobering was the discussion apropos the stark reality that people are in hospital, alone, without visitors, and, in some cases, dying alone.  That is the definition of hell.

I won’t mention the ‘C’ word again.  Trish-Trash is a vehicle for cheer and triviality – at least, for now.  Spending a considerable amount of time with the radio on in the background, I often catch Ken Bruce’s Tracks Of My Years.  This week, it was the choice of Matthew Morrison of Glee fame and one of his two, today, was Somewhere Over the Rainbow – the Hawaiian version courtesy of Israel ‘IZ’ Kamakawiwo’ole.  No wonder I couldn’t remember his name!  The song? Cherished.  Unforgettable.  One of the best ever written.  Belonging to the inimitable Judy Garland.  All of those things and, yet …  This version is just wistful, transporting one, at once, to the heaven that is Hawaii.  In my mind, anyway – blue skies, sun, sea, sand, tropical flowers, grass skirts, beautiful people, big smiles, leis and Elvis!  Alright, I just threw him in, at the end, but he is forever associated with the islands following the 1961 film, Blue Hawaii.

Such a beautiful song.  Google it when you’re googling Even the Bad Times are Good.  It would definitely be on my ipod – if it hadn’t died a death – and, possibly, in my Top Ten?  Not sure.  To be continued.  However, listening to it always takes me straight back to the first time I heard it.  Think it always will.  It was in an episode of the classic series ER; the tear-jerking one – doesn’t narrow it down, much, I know – when Mark Greene died in Hawaii.  So beautifully done and the song played, again, at the end when, following his funeral, his daughter asked them to stop the car, grabbed a balloon from a bunch tied to someone’s fence, and floated it up into the sky in his memory.  The perfect song.

Music and memories.  Just heard on the 5 o’clock news that Bill Withers of Lovely Day fame has died.  How sad but what a legacy!  Susan and I just reminiscing about Fraser House, Spring Term 1978.  Used to waken up to that song and, as we agreed, sometimes make it to a lecture.  One of mine was at 5pm …  Happy days!

People say nothing is impossible but I do nothing every day.’    Winne the Pooh.

Just because it made me smile.

This is Trish, signing off.