tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23858123898918872772026-02-17T14:45:01.042+00:00Susannah Corbetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10082899895699438168noreply@blogger.comBlogger29125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2385812389891887277.post-41364138873094604162012-02-29T12:39:00.000+00:002012-02-29T12:39:20.208+00:00

Well, perhaps unsurprisingly, it’s turning into a busy spring. Which means I am having to spend distressingly long periods of time actually dressed in real clothes and not loafing in ratty – but oh, so comfortable – attire. On reflection, sadly many of my friends might not be able to tell the difference. I don’t really like clothes shopping; even without Nos.1 and 2 daughters in tow I find it a

Susannah Corbetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10082899895699438168noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2385812389891887277.post-19393763469771923492012-01-05T20:45:00.000+00:002012-01-05T20:45:24.415+00:00

…When Steptoe and Son first rode onto our screens. They did so in ‘The Offer’, an episode of Galton and Simpson’s Comedy Playhouse, broadcast on January 5th 1962. The show had been rehearsed the week before and was recorded on the 4th. During the rehearsal week Tom Sloan, Head of BBC Light Entertainment, had been so impressed he was already pushing for the Steptoes to have their own series. After

Susannah Corbetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10082899895699438168noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2385812389891887277.post-37582915753572996672010-10-29T11:35:00.005+01:002010-10-29T11:56:39.970+01:00

What ho troopsAnd where have you been, slacker? I hear you cry.It never fails to amaze me how the calendar fills up and the weeks speed by and yet nothing concrete is left at the end. Well, of course that’s not entirely true. Running repairs to the abode do, in fact, include a new piece of concrete. Laid by the Better Half, it makes an easier run out for the ever-increasing number of council

Susannah Corbetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10082899895699438168noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2385812389891887277.post-38344423329881820352010-05-18T17:15:00.006+01:002010-05-18T20:56:35.622+01:00

There is a particular sound that I have come to know and dread.That awful restrained calling of your name. Pitched precisely to let you know that although something dreadful has happened either the caller doesn’t want you to panic, as they are not screaming uncontrollably, or it means they are too shocked to shout with full gusto.Either reason, naturally, makes me panic more – present fears and

Susannah Corbetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10082899895699438168noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2385812389891887277.post-64130641364133798392010-04-26T21:45:00.001+01:002010-04-26T21:47:20.788+01:00

Which is just as well, it’s been a busy time round by ’ere.Efforts in the veg patch are seeing results. Small seeds have sprouted, and will soon bear fruit. The Better Half is so encouraged he gives reports almost hourly. Still it’s a nice change to the hourly reports on the latest election poll. The beloved has dug a new bed for the sweetcorn and is contemplating another to accommodate yet more

Susannah Corbetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10082899895699438168noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2385812389891887277.post-78814581998601481442010-04-02T14:29:00.004+01:002010-04-02T17:58:33.582+01:00

My gast has been flabbered.A few days ago the phone went. The Better Half answered, screamed and rushed for the remote. Jumping from foot to foot, while making strangled “ack ack” sounds, he flicked through the channels leaving me in stunned silence as to what earth shattering event could be taking place. So, you can imagine my confusion when the TV finally rested on the CBeebies channel. What

Susannah Corbetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10082899895699438168noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2385812389891887277.post-12620926352466076962010-03-28T19:22:00.003+01:002010-03-28T19:37:52.918+01:00

Well… I think ‘It’ has finally happened. Maybe… Perhaps… Oh, Please… whisper it who dares but in this small corner of the planet …spring has arrived.Though I had my suspicions... (you all know the signs, the long since veiled yellow globe is hanging slightly higher in sky of late - meaning I can once again put off cleaning the inside of car windscreen till next winter - and green shoots have now

Susannah Corbetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10082899895699438168noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2385812389891887277.post-25320779925702341362010-02-14T10:16:00.001+00:002010-02-14T10:17:51.570+00:00

Shall I compare thee to a Toyota?Thou art as wild and as unstoppable.The pedal of thy love is stuck down fastTo the eternal floor mat of my heart.I love thy form that never leaves my side.(So I can’t buy a Valentine’s Day cardNay, not even when we stop for petrol.)Methinks our love shall never be recalled,For when thy parts and warranty have runThere shall be no trade in, no part exchange.Thou

Susannah Corbetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10082899895699438168noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2385812389891887277.post-6518070927670609772010-02-05T18:37:00.002+00:002010-02-05T18:49:07.756+00:00

During the run up to my wedding the reception hotel rang to inform that Everton FC had booked out all the remaining non wedding guest rooms.The thought of sharing one’s nuptials with a squad of premiership footballers did raise the eyebrow of apprehension. But, as it turned out, they were less of a disturbance than a narcolepsy convention. Filing off the team bus, they were chaperoned to their

Susannah Corbetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10082899895699438168noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2385812389891887277.post-81027095694076262272010-02-02T11:17:00.003+00:002010-02-02T11:25:34.973+00:00

Ahh… The Holidays are now but a faded memory; they melted with the snow – the only proof they were here the continuing presence of presents I haven’t found a home for yet. I am back working on Harry’s biography. Spending any free hours trawling through memories and press cuttings. Which explains my absence from the blog and why I’m back. One of the cuttings made me pause for thought…In 1965 the

Susannah Corbetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10082899895699438168noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2385812389891887277.post-27890989627560823432010-01-11T11:20:00.002+00:002010-01-11T11:26:14.117+00:00

MONDAYOne day left until school starts. Spend day sewing name labels into bigger uniform. Tomorrow, will finally be able to get back to work on book. Tomorrow, will no longer be Officer of Morale. Tomorrow, will not have phone call/ shower/ pee interrupted.TUESDAYSchool. Hooray. Switch on comp - power cut.Local overhead line fault, will fix soon. Watched Electricity Company’s helicopter buzz low

Susannah Corbetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10082899895699438168noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2385812389891887277.post-42122136805823748792010-01-01T21:51:00.001+00:002010-01-01T21:53:07.941+00:00

It only seems five minutes since the millennium was going to take out every computer on the planet… Ten years ago I was on a beach in Lanzarote - toasting in 2000 by the glow of a burning surfboard… hang ten dudes.Not my most memorable New Year - that goes to the time I was doing ‘Dancing at Lughnasa’ in the West End, Darlings. Screaming Happy New Year to the rest of the cast I legged it for the

Susannah Corbetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10082899895699438168noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2385812389891887277.post-4159079579286730332009-12-22T21:54:00.001+00:002009-12-22T21:59:56.619+00:00

Twas the week before Christmas and all through the houseEvery creature was stirring, well mostly the spouse.The place had been hoovered and polished with care,All ready for in-laws who soon would be there.The children were bouncing around on their beds,While sugar-plums sent them quite out of their heads.The better half calmed them, while I had a flap,Then we went to the shops, though we needed a

Susannah Corbetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10082899895699438168noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2385812389891887277.post-32013882293031309452009-12-09T14:09:00.002+00:002009-12-09T14:22:15.487+00:00

I am not a deeply religious person… but then again, I’m not shallowly religious either. However I do love a good Nativity. Whether you believe The Gospel as gospel or whether you believe all modern religions are piggybacking on the moment man wondered about tomorrow and thought that a bit of worship couldn’t go amiss, there is something tangibly good about seeing those innocent faces wobbling

Susannah Corbetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10082899895699438168noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2385812389891887277.post-81736743691127361022009-12-07T13:30:00.002+00:002009-12-07T14:06:52.859+00:00

Nope they’re here.According to the shops, Christmas starts the day after Halloween, or Thanksgiving, and ends when they take down the January sales signs and replace them with Valentines hearts and Cadburys Crème eggs.According to one friend they start the moment she sees the Coke lorry advert on the telly.When I was a kid we knew Christmas was coming when we’d see Harry get the juggling clubs

Susannah Corbetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10082899895699438168noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2385812389891887277.post-73386540957937997092009-11-23T22:41:00.002+00:002009-11-24T14:00:12.857+00:00

A few weeks ago my brother met a new woman.He had met ‘M’ online and got chatting. Chatting led to calling and calling led to meeting. Which, naturally, led to ribbing by me. I shouldn’t… he’s an easy target. Plays it very close to the chest. So I was amazed when he admitted to me that he liked ‘M’ very, very much. “We click,” he said. This, for the brother, was like admitting he had launched a

Susannah Corbetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10082899895699438168noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2385812389891887277.post-64493027440369875622009-11-19T14:06:00.001+00:002009-11-19T14:18:54.867+00:00

I’m an addict.I had an enabler. A friend introduced me to a game on Facebook a few weeks ago. It’s called Farmville – a virtual smallholding where you grow crops, raise animals but don’t have to worry about fluctuating market forces or mucking out.To progress in the game you need virtual neighbours. Friends on facebook who also play and have farms that you can visit. The more neighbours you have

Susannah Corbetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10082899895699438168noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2385812389891887277.post-31918546436257154712009-11-16T10:43:00.001+00:002009-11-16T10:54:28.600+00:00

Macbeth. Act V, Scene 1- Dunsinane, a room in the castle.Enter Lady Macbeth and waiting gentle woman:-Lady M: Out, damn'd spot! out, I say!Gen: I’ll put a girdle round about thy spot in forty minutes with new Whizzostain remover…In advertland this would happen. In advertland you only need the faintest lip tremble and disappointed sigh at the stubborn stain before a perky expert comes

Susannah Corbetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10082899895699438168noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2385812389891887277.post-59609050381154690752009-11-12T22:15:00.001+00:002009-11-12T22:18:02.796+00:00

Well chuck it in the hedge for a start. Oh the joys of living in the country.Mind you, they say that in London you are only ever 20feet from a rat. Chucking in the hedge there probably wouldn’t go down too well with the neighbours or ’elf and safety.The rodent in question is a gift from the kitties, Those who have dipped a toe in previous blogs will have noted how we can never take just the one

Susannah Corbetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10082899895699438168noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2385812389891887277.post-37191475054134599102009-11-09T10:18:00.004+00:002009-11-11T18:36:18.372+00:00

We are back. Any doubts that we were on the right plane were banished by the sight of the rain beading down the windows as we shimmied in for landing.Pausing to rearrange No.2 daughter on the long walk through Gatwick, I watched it sheeting down the glass panels and dancing on the runway. It was sorely tempting to go straight to the ticket desk and get on the turnaround flight. But no, there are

Susannah Corbetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10082899895699438168noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2385812389891887277.post-39366790118331400592009-10-28T17:00:00.000+00:002009-10-28T17:06:06.706+00:00

I am blogging on the terrace, darlings… Ooo, get me.I remember the early days online when there weren’t many of us and the comp made a disconcerting ‘a-wee-a-wee-a-wee-dit-dit-dit’ sound while gearing up to connect you to the rest of the planet. A connection that would mysteriously disappear every night at midnight – You shall go to the ball, PC user, but on the stroke of twelve thy modem shall

Susannah Corbetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10082899895699438168noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2385812389891887277.post-81738138604121349452009-10-20T13:30:00.002+01:002009-10-20T13:33:25.655+01:00

What’s in a name? Well quite a lot as it turns out. For, as a family, we have been trying to name the new arrival.A few days ago we went to look at, I repeat - LOOK AT - a litter of Golden Doodles. Although they do sound like a 60s Motown group, Golden Doodles are a Golden Retriever / Poodle cross. Like a Labradoodle but even more ditzy, if that were possible.I have never been a fan of viewing

Susannah Corbetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10082899895699438168noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2385812389891887277.post-10634315718707303212009-10-14T12:14:00.000+01:002009-10-14T12:14:56.364+01:00

I am waiting to dial…. I am about to interview an actress that worked with Harry back in the day – I’ve done a fair bit of that over the last year.I’m surprised at how many people I’ve managed to track down. When I started the research I thought that the pool of those that had not only known Harry but, more impressively, were still alive with a functioning memory would be sadly shallow. I was

Susannah Corbetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10082899895699438168noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2385812389891887277.post-10408553614156882732009-10-11T06:35:00.000+01:002009-10-11T06:35:50.456+01:00

I would hereby like to apologise to anyone who came within orbit during the final countdown to my author visit at No. 1 daughter’s school. The night before D-Day I went to bed looking like a stewardess about to ask, “Does anybody know how to fly a plane?”But bright was the morn and stoic my heart as, shunning the last meal and blindfold, I strode forth to meet my fate and the teacher who had

Susannah Corbetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10082899895699438168noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2385812389891887277.post-65762095087471558752009-10-07T10:43:00.001+01:002009-10-07T10:49:52.067+01:00

New Yorkers say that the shortest period of time is the millisecond between the lights turning green and the cab behind you honking its horn. Which says a lot about New Yorkers.Very soon, the shortest period of time will be the nanosecond between the toy advert coming on and your kid informing you they want it for Christmas. I think it’s started already.By comparison, you could get a bus through

Susannah Corbetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10082899895699438168noreply@blogger.com0