Kwezi is a friend of mine whom I met in the UK back in the early 80's. She was born and brought up in Kwa-Zulu Natal.  Kwezi is the Zulu name given to her by her Nanny - it means 'Morning Star'. She speaks Zulu and it was this ability which saved her life when she was attacked by burglars at her Guest House in the Midlands of Natal.

Kwezi is clairvoyant and really does have an uncanny ability - although not when it comes to her own life as is so often the case with people who have a gift.  I first met her in Bristol when I was, not for the first time, going through a turbulent time.  She told me things that no-one else other than myself could possibly have known and she gave me hope.    Kwezi never charged anyone for the benefit of her 'gift'.  I always took her presents or gave her something to recompense her but she has never capitalized on her gift and for that I respect her.

Kwezi is a very bad correspondent (I asked if I could tell you this) and when she left the UK and went back to Durban in South Africa, keeping tabs on her was very difficult as she rarely writes and usually forgets to give you her telephone number.  When my much beloved husband left me for another woman in 1995, I flew out to Durban and into Kwezi's comforting arms.  She warned me that this man would keep coming back into my life - and she was correct.  She will always be there for you when you do track her down. She's like a fire-fly burning bright in your life one minute and then disappearing.

Fortunately I can usually track her down through her sister who lives in the UK.  I phoned a couple of weeks ago and discovered that Kwezi was in the UK and actually staying with her sister.  She will talk to you as though you had a conversation yesterday yet by my reckoning it's a couple of years since we've spoken.  She told me she'd had a book published - Kwezi - an author! I couldn't believe she would have sat down long enough to write a book.  But she has and I purchased it from Amazon.  It is a most unusual story and I could hardly put it down.  Also, I couldn't even attempt to tell you about the storyline, without giving away the plot.

So if you can get hold of LIAR and like an unusual story, then this is for you and, for heaven's sake, don't go peeking at the end until you get there.  (There are a few typos and one or two errors but it doesn't lessen one's enjoyment of a thoroughly good read.)

Kwesi tells me she has written several other novels but it's very hard to get books published.  It's amazing isn't it, the bookshops are crammed to the gunwhales with books of every description and yet authors always tell you how difficult it is to get published.

Well, dearest Kwezi I hope this little piece will get you some more sales and more importantly a publisher for your next book.

LIAR by Kwezi Fairfoot  - Authorhouse - ISBN 978-1-4490-2475-8

Oh, just a little reminder - Come Dine With Me is being repeated on Wednesday 17th Feb. on More Four.

How many of us absolutely 'loathe' Call Centres.  They are proliferating and getting worse.

What beats me is that in the UK we have growing unemployment and yet Businesses and Employers are allowed to get rid of staff and take their Call Centres Abroad.  And Barclays have just announced the most gargantuan profits at a time when we are all suffering, particularly those of us on pensions - officially 'savers' to whom no life-line is being given.  I can remember when I was paying 15% interest on my mortgage in the 80's and no-one helped out then.  Now, on pension savings, I along with millions of others see my little nest egg depleting because the 'Charges' for administering my savings outweigh the interest which hardly pays for the paper on which they send you a statement.

(We all suffer for the faults of the few - take 'money laundering' and the hoops through which one has to go nowadays even to transfer money from your own Bank Account to another Bank Account of your own - forget it - it's a nightmare.)

So if you are going on holiday you have to inform all Banking organisations of your move so that they don't shut down your account.  I thought I'd be clever today and by-pass the damn Press this button, press that button and now go back to the beginning again - so I registered my Credit Card on line - and that was an abject lesson in frustration as it kept throwing me out.  I finally achieved the well nigh impossible and then found that there was no facility to let them know I would be out of the country for a short while.  So it was back to the Telephone and an expensive dialling number.  I am forced to listen to someone trying to sell me yet more of their products, then I'm given a set of options, and then another set of options and finally I get through to India - then I'm put through the hoops again to the point why I wonder that it's worth going away at all.  And I've got to go through this rigmarole for every card I hold not to mention the large telephone bills.

What a world we live in! 

Sorry, but I think it should be made illegal, or companies should be heavily fined when they  shed staff and  move their businesses to call centres abroad when, at the end of the day, it is we taxpayers who are paying for it when people are made redundant, can't get jobs, and go on the dole. 

Sorry, that's my grump for the day.  Actually, I could spend all my time writing reams of what is wrong with the UK today and there isn't too much right with it.  We've had a Government which for 12 years has chucked money at Education and Hospitals and yet we have Filthy Hospitals and children leaving school unable to read and write.  We have targets and iniatives and the damned MP's are totally out of touch with reality -  surrounded by sycophants who all sing to the same Party Hymn sheet.  They are totally out of touch with reality wasting millions of pounds of our money sending out endless glossy pamphlets telling us how to do this and how to do that - what about PERSONAL RESPONSIBILITY. And I'd like to know how much money is wasted on all these Radio and TV Adverts extolling us to do this and that and that Tax doesn't have to be Taxing.

 In many respects they are preaching to the converted. Responsible people will be, just that, responsible, and those that aren't don't give a damn. And what about the proposed health warnings on Alcohol!  I doubt that the health warnings on Cigarettes have had much effect. Surely our money could have been better spent on Cancer research.  Those with an addiction are not going to give up just because of large print on the side of the packet.  And with regard to Alcohol - who allowed 24 hour Opening time - the Labour Government.  For some reason, we don't have the Café Culture that they do on the continent where there is far less alcohol abuse and children, from a very young age, accompany their parents to eat out and predominantly behave well.

Sadly I witnessed the results of the Binge Culture  when I had to travel by train for the run of Calendar Girls and I tell you, it is not a pretty sight.  In fact, the last train to East Kent is called 'The Vomit Comet'.  Do I need to elucidate further?

I'd better sign off as I've got so much to do.

I commenced the day full of the joys of empending Spring and all the ruddy Call Centres today have just slowly made me less and less joyful and more and more cross.

GRUMPY OLD WOMAN signing off.

I've taken The Week for several years now and cannot recommend it highly enough.

I don't buy a paper every day - too depressing and I get so angry and frustrated at what's going on both in the UK and abroad - so I take The Week which covers The Main Stories complete with editorials and also what the commentators are saying and it's a broad spectrum from Left to Right - from The Guardian to the Mail.  There are Theatre and Cinema reviews, articles on wine and restaurants and at the back every week there's a two page article, very often extracted from a book or a longer piece e.g. the latest edition had a completely heart-rending extract called 'Night' written by British historian Tony Judt on his Motor Neurone Disorder.  I just wanted to weep.  This intelligent academic encased in a body where nothing works save for his mind.  I don't think I'd have the courage to continue my 'life'.

So why have I put a heading The Wallace Collection and The Week?  I don't know if this was the first of, what I hope will be, many or if The Week have been organising this kind of function for a long time.  We readers were offered an evening at The Wallace Collection with a lecture by Dame Rosalind Savill (Curator of the Gallery), a glass of champagne and, although I'd totally overlooked the fact, a fabulous catalogue of The Wallace Collection which must on its own have been worth the entrance fee.

I asked my son to accompany me and told him that if he fell asleep, at least please don't snore.  To my delight he stayed awake and thoroughly enjoyed Dame Savill's talk. She was gorgeous - an academic in love with her subject but happy to share it with we ordinary folk on  a level at which we could both appreciate and enjoy. She was also very funny.

What is so lovely about the Wallace Collection is that it's housed in what used to be the family home and it is 'intimate'.  You can actually walk up to the paintings and admire them - as yet there are no barriers.  And there is the most superb furniture dotted around - stunning marquetry work and beautiful carvings - and the only restriction is that you are asked not to touch them. 

As a woman, I was stunned by the fantastic drapes in all the rooms and the décor has been remodelled so as to look the way the house would have been when the Marquesses of Hertford and Richard Wallace lived there.  They must have been stunningly rich to have amassed the treasures that are now on show for us all to see and share.  One rather sad exhibit was the framed Bill of Sale of the Ci-devant Reine of France - poor old Marie Antoinette.

The story of the Hertfords is fascinating.  If you want to know more - just look them up on the Internet.

There were a few surprises for me - I'd always thought that Fragonard's Lady on a Swing and the less well known The Souvenir were very large paintings  - in fact they are both relatively small.  Reminded me of the time I saw the Mona Lisa in the Louvre - very tiny indeed.

We dined in the restaurant - the ambience and décor were simply stunning.  I don't eat out in London very much  but this has to be one of the most gorgeous restaurants around.

A predominantly glass roof has been erected over what would have been the old Courtyard.  The building is about 3 storeys high so you get a fantastic feeling of space and the tables are set well apart.  I don't like restaurants where one is on top of the other customers. 

The meal was a Set Menu for The Week subscribers and the choice was small but excellent.  I don't enjoy being given a huge menu so that by the time you get to the end, you've forgotten what was at the beginning!!  Also, how can the kitchen possibly offer so much choice without being detrimental to the quality of the food.  Having worked in a kitchen for Children in Need and also for Celebrity Masterchef, I'm well aware of the difficulties of providing a huge menu.  I think I'd say 'less is more' and would far rather be given a menu with a few good dishes to suit the tastes of everyone be it fish, meat, or vegetarian.

Don't know what the A la Carte menu might have been nor what sort of prices they would have charged but our Set Meal was excellent in presentation, taste and value.

So, I can heartily recommend both the Wallace Collection and their fabulous restaurant.  And if you ever have the opportunity of hearing Dame Rosalind Savill, do go and listen - she is great - an Academic with a great sense of fun.

I have to say that if I lived closer to London, the Wallace Collection would have me as a regular visitor.  I think you could visit it every week for years and still not take in the minutiae of everything it has to offer.  And the intimate setting was wonderful.

Well before the Computer gives up on me and goes into dock I thought I'd add  a little piece to my Blog.

I'd seen the film before and had no intention of watching it again but a look at the programme offerings for tonight - they were not at all enticing.  As so many people say nowadays 'We have so much choice and nothing to watch' and I heartily endorse that sentiment.  We have a plethora of channels and not a lot of choice.  Take tonight for example, apart from the odd documentary, there really was nothing that grabbed me.  I was tired of paper work, tired of wrestling with computer problems, and there wasn't much choice so I decided to watch 'The Devil Wears Prada' again.  I enjoyed it first time round but didn't think it a great film.  Having watched it again, I actually think it encapsulates a great deal of what is going on in society today - take it that what you see in the world of High Fashion is also indicative of the way so many businesss work.  You get a total Bitch in charge (Meryl Streep as Miranda) and her staff sacrifice everything ....... For What!!  If you watch this film, it really does say a lot about how so many today sacrifice their lives for money and 'status' in vacuous industries.  I saw a great deal more in the film tonight, as a social commentary, but enjoyed it enormously and found myself vocalising 'You total Bitch' at the screen.  Having said that, I think Meryl Streep is one of the greatest actresses we have today. Look at the range of her characters - she is the USA's Judi Dench.  How many of today's 'Soap- Stars' could actually cross the boundary and throw themselves into such diverse characters as Meryl Streep is able to do.  I take my hat off to her.  She is simply brilliant and if I ever got the chance to meet her, I would feel honoured.  She represents, like Judi Dench and Eileen Atkins to mention just two, what is all that the Acting Profession should stand for.

Ok, I'm on a grumble roll.  I get absolutely furious at this 'Two for the price of One' or 'Buy one, get one half price'.  That maybe Ok for families who need a great deal of food but it's we singletons who are subsidising the 'cheaper!!' food.  Give you an example - I needed some Salad the other day.  I won't tell you which supermarket except it's one of the best - because they are all doing it.  I cannot get through two packets of Salad so was forced to pay 1.99 for one packet and for one extra penny - 2 - I could have had 2 packs.  Yesterday it was Anya potatoes - buy one, get one free.  I have neither the eating or storage capacity to buy in bulk.  As the check out girl said and I've been saying for years - 'If they can afford to do that, why don't they put the realistic price on the product'  You aren't getting one free at all.  I do know that Tesco are going to introduce a 'Buy One now - and get another one later'.  But that still begs the question - Why don't they sell one at the correct price.

This 'Bulk' discrimination works against Single People and the Elderly.

And whilst on a grumble against Supermarkets, I wonder if any of the Buyers have EVER tasted Ripe Fruit.  I am tired of buying the - Ripe and Ready to Eat varieties of e.g. avocadoes, nectarines, papaya, mango etc. and so forth.  Nine times out of ten you can't get the Nectarines off the stone - the papayas are bullet hard and never really do ripen and I could go on and on.  I know we can't re-invent the wheel, but how I long for the days when we had 'seasonal' fruit and vegetables and they actually 'TASTED' of something.  The only Tomatoes I ever taste these days which really do smell and taste of Tomato are those grown by my Father.  Those you buy in the supermarkets - even the supposed 'on the vine' ones, simply do not have the flavour they used to have and as for the Big Tomatoes - they are full of water and not much else.

OK I'll stop bleating now but I could write pages and pages on the subject.

I know I promised to put into the Gallery some photos of Winter in Trafalgar Square.  I apologise for not doing so but it takes so long to upload each single photo.  But I will try and put a few in for you in case the Computer has to stay in 'hospital'.  We don't realise how much we rely on computers and IT.  For example, most of my phone numbers are on my computer - so no computer, no phone book.  And I'm too untechnical to buy an Iphone.  Oh, how I wish I were less of a Technophobe.

If you don't hear from me for a while, it will be because my Computer is 'in hospital'.  I had a major crash called a 'Kernel' (if I've spelled it correctly) and after reinstating all sorts of discs etc. Paul, the lovely chap who helps me with my computer, suggested it really does need to be looked at.

This means I have to make a 120 mile round trip and probably leave the Computer at the Apple Store.  I've had Apple Computers for over 25 years and they've always been virtually foolproof.  However, I've had several problems with this Laptop and can't help thinking - this is what you get when you outsource the production to the Far East.  Sorry to say it but it might make economic sense to Mr. Jobs as he's getting his computers made for less but have you seen the price of Apples come down - NO.

I think Apple used to be made within Europe and I never ever had a problem - in fact I've been able to give them away each time I've upgraded.  So production is taken abroad -  people lose their jobs and if they can't get re-employment, they have to go on benefit and who pays for that - we do - the taxpayers.  And it's happening all the time. 

On the train going to London one day a couple were discussing the fact that their firm were cutting jobs and outsourcing to a Call Centre abroad. Same problem.  We've got massive unemployment and yet Companies and Businesses are allowed to take the jobs away from the UK and take them where they don't have to pay so much.  OK - so apparently we all want less expensive goods but in the end we are paying more indirectly through our taxes.  Bit like Independent TV - their advertising costs are reflected in everything you buy.

Well, I don't know what you thought of the programme but I was astounded to see that my Website received 5,545 hits on Sunday night.  I usually get around 300 in a week.  And, NO, they weren't all looking for the 'Nude' photo of Yours Truly. 

As Tim Firth so beautifully puts it in 'Calendar Girls' - Nude is suggestion - Naked is detail.  I was covered in Butterflies and was showing no more than I would have done in my Bikini-wearing days.

I was delighted to receive so much feed back on the programme - and the over-riding comment was 'How pleasant to see people enjoying themselves and being nice and not bitching each other'.  I got stopped on the street whilst shopping, had comments sent through my Website and a constant stream of favourable comments sent on by my son Jonathan who works in a business where I shouldn't think anyone is much over 40 years of age!  The Producers can edit a programme how they wish, but if they haven't got 'bitchiness' then they can't add it.  We all enjoyed ourselves and each other's company.  I haven't enjoyed myself so much in years working on a programme.

When I saw Donal receiving lots of help, I asked if my son Jonathan could help me by serving the wine.  Well, he got cut out of the one hour version but if the programme is re-cut into 4 half hours, he might make a miraculous re-appearance and, hopefully, you might see more of Mike Parker - the harpist. 

I must admit after I asked if I could invite Mike to play at my Dinner Party, I had terrible mis-givings because of the caustic comments made by the Narrator.  However, after attending Donal's Dinner at which he had a classical guitarist, I felt far more comfortable.

Don't know if you saw the piece in The Guardian on line.  Still can't decide whether the guy likes me or not - he was certainly incredibly sarcastic.  Mind you, I shouldn't object to being called Eccentric at my age - I'd rather be eccentric than dull.  And Donal called me 'Wacky' - and I always thought of myself as very conservative!  I suppose it all comes down to Stereotyping.  At my grand old age, I should be sporting a cardigan (done up on all the wrong buttons), flat comfortable shoes, a perm or a short hair cut and should be happy to be spreading - size wise.  Well I'm not doing any of the afore-mentioned and if I were even fitter, there'd be no stopping me - I'd be up Kilimanjaro, walking the Great Wall and doing all the things I never even thought of doing when I was younger.  Mind you, by way of excuse, many pursuits were simply not there and available when I was younger. I'm delighted that my son still thinks I'm 'wacky' enough to go Disco-Dancing and is more than happy to accompany me on Cruises when I'm invited to give talks.  You are a long time dead and I intend to pack as much as I'm able to into my Autumnal years.

Incidentally, sorry to disappoint but there was NO Romance between Dave and myself.  I think we are both outgoing people and, speaking for myself, he was a man with a great deal more to him than met the eye.  I think I too surprised him as he was probably expecting some 'po-faced' newsreader.  Yes, I did comment on his Aftershave but I hand out compliments to both sexes.  I've often told a total stranger how very nice she looked and asked where she might have purchased her outfit.  When I was in my twenties and working for Granada TV in Manchester, I was commuting up on Monday and sat next to a woman with the most gorgeous perfume.  As we approached Manchester I plucked up courage to compliment her and ask her what was the Perfume.  To my surprise, she was wearing exactly the same perfume as I was but it smelled totally different on her.  It was Guerlain's Mitsouko which is still available.  I do get cross over the plethora of new perfumes being released almost monthly but Thank Goodness some of the old stalwarts are still there.  I now have to order The Vert by Bulgari and wonder how long before that is discontinued.  It's like all forms of make-up.  You've been using it for years and then it disappears.  The hapless assistant tells you it's been deleted and then, more often than not, lets you know you are the tenth client who has asked for it that day.  

Now how did I get on to Perfume!  Oh yes, David's Aftershave.

Thank you for all your support and I DO respond to emails sent via my Agent on the Website.

Fond wishes,  Jan

J.B. PRIESTLEY

I forgot to mention that an Actor friend of mine came with his wife to see Calendar Girls and asked me if I'd read Barry Cryer's 'The Chronicles of Hernia'.  I hadn't but was absolutely amazed to find two references to the fact that JB was, apparently, a great fan.  How I wish he'd got in touch and we could have met - it would have been such an honour.

In the past I've worked on several programmes with Barry - he's great fun and I miss those days of being a panellist on programmes like Blankety Blank and I've Got a Secret.  Innocent they were and certainly entertaining.  I don't think they were expensive to produce and feel it's such a shame that we don't have more programmes like them nowadays.

Just a reminder that the Come Dine With Me in which I took part goes out this Sunday 31^st January on Channel 4.  We all had a great time and I only hope it is edited in such a way that our fun and enjoyment of each other shines through.

I don't watch much television - preferring to sit down to a good DVD of an evening.  At the weekend we are almost spoilt for choice when during the week there's hardly ever anything I want to see.

Last night I wanted to watch 'Slum Dog Millionaire' and The Great Rift .  Because of my great love and desire for knowledge of Africa, I came down on the side of the Documentary.  It was superb and represented all that is best in the BBC and of a calibre that we always expected of the 'Beeb'.  In my humble opinion this is the kind of programme on which the BBC should concentrate.  They get our licence fee over which we have no choice, therefore they do not - or should not have to compete in the Ratings War.  Their remit was to provide Programmes which Entertained, Enlightened and Educated and I wish they'd return to that.  I think Lord Reith must be twirling in his grave over much of the current output on the BBC.

Mind you, most people are unaware that they also pay through the nose for the other channels every time they buy a box of Cornflakes or anything else which has to be advertised.  That advertising is all absorbed within the final price of the object being purchased.

Weather permitting, next week I am going up to Altrincham Grammar School near Manchester.  They are celebrating their 100^th Anniversary and wanted me to MC their Celebrations.  I feel quite honoured really as there are loads of people they could have asked.  Still I am an ex Grammar School girl - having won a scholarship when I was eleven.  Actually I passed the 11+ highly enough to gain a place at a Public School - Christ's Hospital - which was exclusively for girls.  BUT there was some to do over the fact that my father had paid for me to go to a Convent School in Charlton (something like 4 a term but quite a sacrifice on a regular soldier's pay) so the LCC - London County Council didn't allow me to take up the place.  Instead I went to St. Joseph's Convent School in Abbey Wood - now defunct and turned into apartments - but a very good school which gave us the discipline, manners and the dedication to work ethic which must have stood we pupils in good stead for the rest of our lives.

I will come back to this - bit tired at the moment - as I would like to extol the virtues and praise the kind of teachers we had in my schooldays. We may have been taught- rather boringly - the Three R's (Reading, 'Riting' and 'Rithmatic') but without those, one is really hampered with studying anything else.

Of course I can't let you know who were the other participants but I understand that the programme will be transmitted on 31^st January - so not a long lead time.

The four of us couldn't have been more different but I think we all enjoyed each other's company and got along extremely well.  Of course, one doesn't know what the others say in the Taxi after the dinner and how the Producers decide to edit the programme - programmes and reputations are made and broken in the Editing Suite.

I would have liked a few days respite between Calendar Girls and CDWM but that was not to be.  I treated myself to a car home from London on Saturday Night at the end of Calendar Girls as I had a lot of baggage, and was so glad I did - about 20 miles south of London the snow started to fall and I was mightily glad that it was the driver and not me who had to cope with the conditions.  Couldn't believe the snow piled up at the side of the roads as we got deeper and deeper into Kent.  Also discovered that the road from Deal to Dover had been impassable for three days.

Got home safely and fell into bed.  Spent Sunday organizing everything for my evening of entertaining for CDWM.

I was elected to go last - don't know whether that is a good or a bad thing.  One has more time to worry about one's choice of meal - a choice you can't change after it has been handed in to the Production Team at least a week prior to the filming.

I liked the three other guests and found them all very interesting in different ways.  We had lots of laughs and, I think, a good time was had by all.  After the show has been aired, I'll post some amusing photos in my Gallery but can't let you in on the secret yet.

Felt very sad on Thursday evening at the end of my Dinner.  Did some of the clearing up after the team left and fell into bed at 3.00 am.  I've had ten weeks of company in Calendar Girls and a week of excitement and good company with CDWM so coming down to earth this weekend has been something of an anti-climax.  Still at least I managed to go for a long walk on the beach.  Being a Sunday, loads of people were out walking their dogs and otherwise perambulating.

The final curtain of the West End Run came down on Calendar Girls on Saturday, 9^th January. (The show is now going on tour for the remainder of this year.  It is one which will run and run and run)  I shall miss the company, the excitement of theatre and the laughter and applause of the audiences.  Also my son, Jonathan, works just up the road so we were able to see each other on a regular basis.  However, I am mightily relieved that I won't have to make that ghastly journey on grubby trains with filthy lavatories - nor will I have to stand on freezing cold stations in the wind, rain and snow.  Whatever happened to passenger comfort?  In the interests of making as much money as possible for the shareholder, small stations only open their ticket office for a few hours in the morning - ticket office shuts and so does the waiting room.  Perhaps that is acceptable in the summer but certainly not in the depths of Winter especially when trains are delayed and cancelled because of inclement weather - among the most amusing announcement for late trains was 'Slippery lines' - now what on earth does that mean!

Sorry to say that I shall be very 'un-green' and unless completely unavoidable, I don't want to travel on any more trains.  I shall return to the expense (petrol), comfort and solitude of my own car.

I had to do some filming for 'Come Dine with Me' on Friday 8^th January.  In view of the inclement weather and the possibility that had I managed to get home to Kent, I might not make it back again, the CDWM team put me up for the night in an hotel close to the Theatre in which 'Calendar Girls' was playing. 

Sadly I usually arrive late at hotels and have to leave early before I can fully utilise and appreciate the amenities.  However the Royal Horse Guards Parade Hotel was lovely with a huge and impressive ground floor housing the Reception and lovely lounges with open fires.  The Dining Room was called '1212' - as it was previously the home of Scotland Yard - and the phone number, for  those of us old enough to remember the days when a phone number actually had a place name, was Whitehall 1212.

I had a few hours to kill before the filming so I took my camera into Trafalgar Square and captured a few interesting images which I will put into the Gallery as I can only get one picture to accompany the Blog.  Thought this one was amusing - the little lost bird and the sign behind him.  Will put more into the gallery - icicles on the statues in the fountain etc.

THE HORSE BOY  By Rupert Isaacson

With all the travelling on trains I've had to do over the last few months, I've read endless books, but one I simply must tell you about was this one - The Horse Boy.  I started reading it on the train into town yesterday, continued reading on the homeward journey, was too tired to finish it when I got home at 1.00 am but got up this morning, made a cup of tea and went back to bed to finish it.

It is the story of a couple with a severely Autistic child and how, seeing his affinity with a horse, his father decided to take this further.  The story involves Spiritual healing.

The couple decide to take their son to Mongolia the spiritual home of the horse and they seek the aid of a powerful Shaman living with the Reindeer people.

I cannot adequately précis this amazing journey and the experiences through which Kristin, Rupert and their son Rowan lived.  I simply couldn't do it justice.  You must read it for yourself and then pass the book on to friends and friends of friends.

Can you imagine what it must be like to live with a child who continually goes into uncontrollable rages, cannot communicate, and cannot be toilet trained?  The love and forbearance shown by this remarkable couple is a lesson to all of us.  Their trials and tribulations would have broken most of us.

I won't give away any more of the story - suffice to say I shed tears and found myself saying silent prayers that little Rowan would be 'cured'.

It was a Sunday Times bestseller, and is published by Penguin in paperback

Can't give you precise details but I am doing a photoshoot for the Daily Mail which should go out on either 1^st or 8^th January.  I hope it is going to be a lot of fun and I'm giving the fee to the 'Orchid' Charity - which funds research into awareness and cure for  three male cancers - Testicular, Penile and Prostate.

Those of you who are regular readers of my Blog. will know that a few years ago my son had Testicular Cancer.  I am eternally grateful to the 'Hollyoaks' Soap because he was watching that (recuperating from a heavy Saturday night) when they dealt with the subject of Testicular Cancer - he did an investigation and found a lump.  He had to have a surgical removal and is just coming up to his final check. 

He did a Sky Dive for Orchid in 2008 and I nominated Orchid as the beneficiary from an edition of 'Celebrity Cash in the Attic' in which I featured.  We also did an article for The Mail highlighting  the work done by Orchid.  It is a small charity without massive overheads and advertising costs and that's why I like to support it apart from the obvious reasons.  Testicular Cancer has one of the highest success rates if it is diagnosed in time and part of the work of Orchid is to make men 'Aware' and to get them to test themselves.  Men do appear to be rather backward in going to their Doctor if the problem is something to do with their genitalia so Orchid hopes to raise awareness and highlight the necessity of early diagnosis.

So on that note may I wish you all a Healthy, Happy and Peaceful New Year.

Fond greetings,  Jan.

Well, it did go out on New Year's Day.  It was a sort of Calendar Girls 'nude' shot.  As a character says in the play - naked involves detail; nude involves suggestion.  I was tastefully covered in blue butterflies.  And ladies I must tell you, the most flattering way to be photographed when you are over a certain age is 'lying down' - all the loose flesh drops away.  There was the usual rash of 'nasty and bitchy'  comments on line including 'how much was it airbrushed?' - if you look at the photo you'll see  all the lines around my neck etc.  If I'd wanted them airbrushed I could have had them done.  However, the makeup artist did a wonderful job on my hair and make-up.  And any of us, in professional hands, will always 'scrub up well'.  Being a full body shot, the face was not the centre of attention and I wasn't shot at close quarters - had I been, then of course you would have seen more lines.

About the only thing I find really hurtful is all the nastiness surrounding my marriages.  The press will never never never let me live down the five marriages.  I'm no saint but I do have a penchant for adventurous and womanising men.  I wish the, predominantly women, who write such nasties would mind their own business.  Of course, I wish I'd not got all those failed marriages but I am no harridan - just married the wrong sort.  Perhaps these 'paragons of virtue' should learn to be less judgmental.  

Moan over.  But I must say, I was very flattered to be asked to do a shot like this - wouldn't any woman?  And the person most important to me - my son - approved and was proud of me.

Months ago, I wrote to the French Air Attache in London asking for help with my research into the French Pilot and War Hero - Rene Mouchotte.  (I understood that Col. Jean-Claude Piccirillo  spoke excellent English and wrote to him explaining what I wanted and telling him that my French was not fluent enough to correspond in that language.) I received a reply addressed to Monsieur Leeming (well I suppose in Holland Jan is a man's name!) telling me that the letter had been passed on to the Ministry of Defence in Paris.

I have now had a delightful reply - again addressed to Monsieur Leeming and all in French.  Had to get it translated to understand the nuances and basically I've been given the go-ahead to contact several Organisations which would help in my Reseach - AAD - The air force department of the Defence History Service and ECPAD which holds newsreels, propaganda films and photographic accounts.   However, it's the human side of Mouchotte about which I need information.  I know his sister had two sons because, in his diaries,  he refers to his nephews who would be in their 70's today.  I know, from a photo of the Mouchotte Family Vault in Pere La Chaise Cemetery in N.E. Paris, that the tomb is in good order which would suggest that there are still extant members of the family.  I also know that his mother lived in Bergerac during the War.  But I am hampered by my inadequate French.  So, if anyone reading this Blog - and I know there are several people in France who 'tune' in - could help with my research, I would be so grateful. 

(I have always wished to perfect my French and buy numerous books but never seem to get round to attacking them.  I'm not and never have been a good linguist much to my disappointment.  I can get by when I'm in France - but only in the most rudimentary way.)

Even if I can't get a documentary off the ground, I may well be able to write a good article about Rene.  So many people think the Battle of Britain was won entirely by we Brits, but, if you look at the Squadron Badges at the Capel-le- Ferne Memorial, you will see that there were pilots from Poland, Australia, New Zealand, Canada, (even Iraq)  and many other parts of the world and it would be good to Honour them - through Rene Mouchotte -  in 2010 which marks the 70^th Anniversary of the Battle of Britain.

SO PLEASE HELP IF YOU CAN.

And I don't mean alcohol.  One couldn't help but be infected by the Christmas feeling - one benefit of being in a snowy, icy, London in the run up to the Great Day.  Everywhere you looked there were twinkling lights, Christmas Trees, Carol singing,  and a general feeling of Goodwill despite the Recession.

Being in Theatre at Christmastime is rather magical - we are all children at heart looking forward to our Secret Santa (you pull a name out of a hat and then buy a present to a specified amount of money).  Santa visited us in the Albery Bar between shows - Mince pies and Coffee were on offer.  Actually Santa was Mother Christmas in the shape of Phil  Jupitas resplendent in, what I presume was, one of the costumes from Hairspray in which he is starring.  I received a posh bottle of Cava in a splendid fabric stocking (which I will hang at the end of my bed next year) and a lovely card which has now set me guessing - who did buy the present and write such lovely words?

My son came to the theatre on Christmas Eve and with a great sigh of relief we caught a train home - I say 'relief' as the previous day on trying to buy our tickets, they wouldn't sell me any because so many trains were being cancelled and delayed.  So I checked that Marks and Spencer didn't shut till 7.00 pm and mentally adjusted to the possibility of Christmas Dinner being Smoked Salmon sandwiches and a bottle of something at Jonathan's flat in Ealing.  However the thaw came just in time and most train services were running. .  Ours was a quiet Christmas - just the two of us - but we had time for conversation, good food and drink and indulged in watching 'Happy Feet' and a DVD of K.9 - both of us are mad keen on animals and we love the K.9 and Beethoven type films.

No trains on Boxing Day - well at least not down in my neck of the woods - so it was a drive in to London for two shows.  However, the joy of walking to the Car Park (and not the train station)  after the show and travelling home in the warmth and comfort of my car - not to mention the pleasure of listening to Classic FM on the journey instead of mobile phones, loud conversations peppered with expletives and loutish behaviour - made up for any inconvenience.

OH - JUST A LITTLE REMINDER.    ON 28TH DECEMBER ON BBC 2 AT 9.00 PM THERE IS A RETROSPECTIVE ON THE SUPER PROGRAMME 'NOT THE NINE O'CLOCK NEWS' AND YOURS TRULY WILL BE FEATURING IN IT.

WONDERFUL CHRISTMAS CAROLS

Struggling to work on Friday - along with countless thousands - and alighting at Charing Cross, I was assailed by the most heavenly sound - a smallish group of Carol Singers.  I've no idea for whom they were collecting, just put my money in the bucket.  There were about 15 of them singing like Angels and really using the acoustics of the Station. Sadly the station announcements don't - use the acoustics properly - and one gets an over amplified and very often garbled announcement.  BUT those carols were gorgeous and made me feel very Christmassy as well as raising my spirits enormously.

One of the few benefits of living in a Cold Climate (I am a sun worshipper by nature) is the lovely Christmassy feeling you get from the twinkling lights, the Christmas Trees and the Carols.  I listen to Classic FM all the time and there have been some fabulous carols over the last few weeks - John Rutter and Karl Jenkins offerings just to mention a couple - don't often buy CD's but simply had to get a copy of Stella Natalis by Karl Jenkins - it's smashing.

This is necessarily short.  I must have touched my cat in a sensitive place and he bit me last night - Totally my fault - but unfortunately my hand has blown up like a balloon and is incredibly painful. (My cat is one of the most loving creatures you could ever hope to meet and has loads of human friends in the neighbourhood who all love him for his gentleness)  My lovely Doctor agreed to see me at short notice and has given me very strong antibiotics.  Had to walk there as the roads were so treacherous - mind you the pavements were almost worse and I ended up walking in the middle of the road thinking of my Darling Mother who, when she first went to work at the age of 14, was advised by her Mother to walk in the middle of the road as it was safer - that was, of course before there were millions of cars and one probably could walk in the middle of the roads.

So sorry for short-changing you - and leaving undone a million pre-Christmas preparations!  I'm going to have to chill out with hand held high and watch some television.

I've a couple of interesting projects for the New Year but at the moment can't tell you about them.

HAVE A PEACEFUL AND HAPPY CHRISTMAS.

With fondest wishes to you all - I do love seeing that my Blog is read in the most far-away places.

I would dearly love to get a documentary made about his life.  Not only do we know so much about him because of his diaries but I think a vast number of people have no idea of the sacrifice made during the War by foreign nationals.  Britain didn't win the war on it's own you know.

It was suggested that I wrote to the French Air Attache in London which I duly did and received a reply addressed to Monsieur Leeming (I know Jan is a man's name in Holland but didn't think to put my gender on the letter.)  My communication was passed on to someone in Paris and today I received a reply - written in French.  My French is not good enough to be able to effect a translation so I'll have to send it to friends in France.

However, I did understand enough of the reply to realise that my enquiries have not been addressed.  I know Rene was not married but he did have two nephews who now would be in their 70's.  I know the Family Vault in Pere La Chaise is well kept - which suggests that it is being cared for.

I also know that I have some readers in France.  If you could possibly help, I would be so grateful.  There are streets named after Rene and a small Airfield.  His Mother lived in Bergerac during the war.  I so much want to find out if he still has living relatives - it would aid my research and make it that much more feasible to present the story of Rene for consideration as a Documentary.

It was an experience though I was feeling absolutely lousy - having only just come out of hospital after a small operation - so if I'm looking and sounding below par, you'll know why.

 Members of the team were Rosie Boycott, Jenny Bond, Sue McGregor, Angela Rippon and Me - and I'm not telling you the result.

I had a very interesting experience on the train the other night.  I only had to go one station from Charing X to Waterloo East so was standing.  A  relatively well dressed young man - who I think had had a few too many beveridges - was hurrying people up and in to the train and constantly used the 'F' word.  At one stage he looked at me and apologised.  I suppose I should have kept my lip buttoned but there's been so much of it and I do find it offensive.  So I said he didn't need to apologize but that our language is one of the richest in the world and it grieved me to hear an obviously well educated young man using the 'F' word so frequently when he could have used so many other illustrative words.  He, like so many, was using 'F'  as an adjective.  ( My own son uses the word far too frequently.  We have a pact at the moment - if I read 'Feel the Fear and do it Anyway' he will cut down on his use of the 'F'word.  I'm keeping to my end of the bargain.)  The young man on the train and I  had quite an interesting chat for a few minutes in which he asked me why I found the word offensive and, apart from anything else, I told him that I objected to it being used as an adjective when our language offers so many other words - it actually shows a lack of verbal acuity.  When I got off, he fell into step next to me and chatted quite amicably - I think it was his way of apologising.

I'm not a prude and when pushed, I too have used the word but in its pejorative sense. 

The Multi Storey - where my car was keyed a few weeks ago - is owned by Euro Parks.  I did write to them and, as to be expected, just got a curt reply telling me they take no responsibility for the cars in their care.  Naturally they have a disclaimer BUT surely they do have a duty of reasonable care to the cars parked in their Car Park. I don't think they have CCTV - if they do it is not very effective.  They only have to maintain the Park and pay for a few folk who tell you on which floor to park and another couple who man the 'office' I can't understand why this highly profit making Car Park has been handed over to a Money Making Concern - they must be making money hand over fist and it would be nice to think the big fat profits were being raked in by the Council to be used on other facilities in the City.  

Heaven alone knows what visitors - particularly those from Scandinavian countries - must think of our Grubby Capital City.  On my recent Baltic Cruise (working) my son and I visited most of the Scandinavian Capitals and were so impressed with the cleanliness of their cities.  On my short walk from Charing Cross up St. Martin's Lane to the Noel Coward Theatre, I am disgusted at the state of our streets.  Chewing Gum is dotted all over the pavements - mind you it doesn't help that so many manufacturers now sell the stuff in little boxes where they rattle around loose - so there isn't even a paper in which to wrap the residue even if one were so inclined.

I've just read a letter in 'The Week' - an excellent periodical which looks at world events from every angle - left, right and in the middle.  The letter was from Robin Hanbury-Tenison (a delightful man whom I once interviewed and who, in turn, once rescued me from very personal and unnecessary questioning in an interview with the Irish Gay Byrne).  In his letter he wrote about   Chewing Gum.  Apparently until after the Second World War chewing gum was made from chicle, the gum of the chicozapote tree.  The gum is biodegradable, can be swallowed and if 'spat out' eventually turns to powder.  Synthetic gum which 'adorns' our pavements was invented in the 1950's.

Fortunately the 'chicleros' - who harvested the gum are finally fighting back and a consortium of 2,000 of them in Mexico are marketing chicle in Europe.  Waitrose stocks it and it is being distributed to all Universities in Britain.  So, if you must chew gum, how about a stick of chicle - you'll be helping to save the rainforest and its indigenous inhabitants (descendants of the Maya) and keep our pavements clean.  Sounds GOOD to me.

Do our 'Rulers' have one iota of common sense between them all.  I loathe smoking and always have so I've avoided pubs and clubs all my life.  That's fine - my choice is not to go to those smoked filled dens but if others want to - great - that's their choice.  Now, whether we non-smokers like it or not we have to walk through Arches of smoke around the doorways of public buildings and pubs where the smokers congregate for their 'fix'.  One of the worst through which I had to forge a path was the Side door to Moorfields Eye Hospital - it was like wading through thick and smelly fog and the noxious fumes lingered for many feet afterwards as I progressed into the building.  

Not only do you have to walk in the road to get around the masses standing on the pavements smoking but the sight of the 'butts' littered all over the pavements is positively disgusting.  Of course our 'Rulers' didn't think that far did they.  No, they live in their little ivory towers and their pads far away from the common herd - of which I count myself one.  And you can't totally blame the smokers because very little is provided by way of somewhere in which to dispose of their butts.

So many rules and regulations are passed as the result of minority 'pressure groups' and the end result is never debated.  When the smokers had their designated rooms in pubs, clubs and restaurants, that was far preferable to turning them in to pariahs who have to hang about on streets polluting everything in sight.  I actually feel sorry for them and for the rest of us who have to look at the discarded remnants on the pavement the next day.  But of course, government would never ban smoking - they get too much income from the Trade.  Sir Walter Raleigh has a lot to answer for.

The travelling is really wearing me out and trying to catch up with chores and correspondence is a losing battle.

I was only told at the last minute about the Retrospectives on 'I'm a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here'  - the programmes are transmitted over three days and I've no idea whether they will just use my contributions in one programme or spread them across all three so sorry for not being able to give you advance warning.  They are going out on ITV 2 on the 9th,10th and 11th December.

But I can give you notice of Celebrity Eggheads in which I was part of a Newsreaders' Team.  That transmits on 16th December BBC 2  - 6.00 pm

Still greatly enjoying Calendar Girls - as are the audiences.  Sadly our lovely Debbie Chazen left the cast on Saturday.  She was brilliant in the part of Ruth and I watched her every single night - she made me laugh so much it was better than a tonic.

I could tell you more about the appalling travel on South Eastern Trains but it will only depress me - the behaviour, of a substantial section of the public, beggars belief - from feet on seats to loud mobile phone conversations and Ipods playing so loudly that other passengers can hear also whether they want to or not.  And as for sobriety!  As one guard said - he is dreading the three weeks up till Christmas and so am I.

Bye for now - got to get a train.  Jan