A CHAT WITH MY THIEF....

I have had my car raided about 20 times in 25 years. Always my own fault. I sometimes forget to lock my car. I have always known it was the same person. Over the years all my CD's were stolen. They knew where I hid coins for parking meters. Multitudes of other stuff was stolen. Once a huge tripod was stolen....the police retrieved it the same afternoon. A valuable set of hallogen lights were taken after I'd got home late night after lighting a large area of National History Museum, photographing an unpronouncable massive head of an extinct reptile. About 8 years ago the local police telephoned me and asked me to pay a visit to Kentish Town Police Station, to identify something. They had a case which had contained a pair of sun glasses. I had written my name inside the lid plus the name of my newspaper. The police had traced me. So there I was in a small interview room, with a police officer and a pile of interesting looking papers in a see thru' plastic envelope. The officer had forgotten the case, and left the room to locate it. He was gone for about 3 minutes, in which time I found the name and address of the suspect. Earlier the officer had correctly refused the identity of the suspect. The officer returned and I told him never to trust a journalist, and indeed the case was mine. The thief lives in a mansion flat 5 minutes away, and after asking questions to various neighbours and locals, I discovered he was a well know thief and had spent time in and out of prison. Two weeks ago my car was raided again, there was nothing to steal except a rather beautiful hand carved walking stick which I used a couple of times after a bit of surgery. Of course by now I knew what he looked like. I watched him walking his 2 massive dangerous looking dogs, with huge gold studded harnesses on them.....he would walk the street looking inside the cars, sizing them up for future visits. Anyway two days ago, I spoke to him...and said something like... " Hello...lovely dogs.....look you know this area, my car has been raided recently and a lovely walking stick was taken......if you hear anything, please tell me " OK, so yesterday afternoon, the door bell rang. I opened an upstairs window....it was my thief. " Just to tell you, you've left you car door open" I thanked him very much.

BLOGGERITIS:------

Maine Frame I have a new ailment. I have called it BLOGGERITIS. Symptoms:- From sitting at computer nearly all the time, my bad knee is 100 times worse. Knee cap had to be strapped into place a few days ago. From checking computer at 5 a.m. when Fatty Pang(Rosie) wakes me, instead of going back to sleep, I read all the blogs. So I'm half dead most of the time. Worrying about what I'm going to write next. Eyesight weakening. Cat not getting the ususal attention, so quacking, moans, groans, banging doors with her paws and generally behaving disgracefully. Eating spiders and Daddy Long Legs, and specially being sick so I have to spend a long time cleaning etc. Worrying whether Gavin will let me email some funny stuff I've found, and put it on my blog when the time comes. Arranging with my nice computer teacher to come and collect stuff to scan and email it to me, so that poor heroic Gavin will put it on my blog. Wonder what I can give Gavin to compensate him for his help. Increasing painkillers, valium to deal with even more symptoms of distress. Making excuses to friends and family that I am too busy to see them. That's all for now folks, got to take a pill.

NEW SERIES:........Joke Of The Month

Moses and Jesus play golf. Moses tees offwith a superb 250 yard drive. Then Jesus drives off and as the ball soars into the air it's caught in the beakof a passing eagle who's flying in the direction of the green. He drops it into the pouch of a squirrel on the ground who runs to the flag and pops it into the hole. Moses turns to Jesus: " Look " he asks "do you want to play golf or do you want to mess around?"

Party Conference Time

This used to be my favourite time of the year. I would have to go to a health farm (don't laugh) for a few days before the marathon. I would begin at TUC conference, which was my favourite.....over about 10 years I got to know all the union leaders, and became great friends with...don't faint.. Arthur Scargill. I knew he had a reputation for hating the press...but I went to sit next to him, introduced myself, and said I'd be watching him with massive lens, and was that OK? he was so surprised I'd asked him first that for years we were friends. Until my newspaper went to Wapping, and then even lovely Neil Kinnock wouldn't see me anymore. But back to the season I miss so much. Then the Liberals, apart from Jo Grimond (remember??)...very boring..but it was always terrific to meet up with all the radio and TV commentators, and a terrific bunch of political editors and commentators. We were all very friendly, but I think I was the only one of the photographers who was really interested in what was going on. I was certainly the only woman photographer at that time, also there was little security, which was all changed when the Brighton bomb went off. Then it was the Labour Party, it was brilliant, there were always rows..and I knew exactly what was going on so my pictures tried to tell a story. Which was appreciated by my Editor the very great and wonderful Harry Evans. I was present when David Owen, Shirley Williams and Co....were having little huddles, I photo'd that. ...... and this was the begining of the SDP. So the following year there was another conference to cover. The SDP. Then the Tory Party....BRILLIANT...there they all were, me with my new Nikon 300mm lens, first in UK, brilliant resolution, being teased by all the other photographers, saying I was mad. It was unbearably heavy, and I always wore high heels (I'm paying for that idiocy now) Apart from pouncing on all the cabinet all in front of me, I was photo'ing Margaret Thatcher. My newspaper had "put" their only woman photographer with her, the future Prime Minister...and the of course the PM.....so all these funny, sarcastic photographs would be spread out Sunday after Sunday.....Harry Evans killing himself laughing. It was such a great time, the cameraderie.....ghastly hotels.....total exhaustion. It all ended for me when the bomb went off in Brighton. I'll write about that one day. Everything changed....high security....many more photographers jostling for the best seat...which I always bagged as I was always first inside conference halls....I had to be, they were all huge tall men who used to push me around.......of course very quickly they all had that wonderful huge lens they had teased be about. One day at the Picture Desk, I got out this lens and was checking it out when I held it to focus ... ...and shock..sadness..horror....I couldn't hold it anymore. So I never went to another conference. The last time I saw Thatcher was when I went to see her at Downing St. a few days before she was disposed of. Someone had sent 5000 roses...five thousand. It was very sad actually, I'd followed her to various summits....seen how brave she was after the bomb at Brighton....she knew me quite well, but never knew my name. I sold my beautiful lens.

Rudolf Nureyev

I don't know whether this will work, so I'll just post this and continue... I've had some valium so I may fall asleep ! Please press COMMENT to read about Rudolf the Divine.

Rosie is a very beautiful Maine Coon cat

This is Rosie lying on my (her) bed !!! This post is a picture test.

The beginning of the blog.

Which is where it all starts...