Welcome to my perfumed garden

Jo Brand, Sean Locke and David Mitchell on QI*

Yes, it's FRIDAY!, people, let us rejoice and be happy. Permission to make a kissy face and smooch you all most mercilessly...?

* Didn't Stephen enjoy saying 'doing a stretch'? Bless his Paul Smith cashmere socks.

I pass on some future awesomeness from Step-Hen Free. Praise Be The Tweet.

Shows himself to be made of the most pure and delightful awesome.

That the estimable Mr. Stephen Fry is in LA filming another episode of Bones.

Dear god, I wish he wouldn't. It's such a painful caricature, a Mary Poppins Englishman, the cultural-assassination  equivalent of blacking up and singing 'Mammy'. It makes me cringe, deed it does.

And where's the new series of QI? 6 months since they filmed it and I say, is this what we pay our license fee for? It's an outrage, it really is.

to Just a Minute on R4? Oh dear god, the silly voices, such sublime silliness! ::wipes eyes::

I'm otherwise en-mired in chapter 39 of the novel but taking a wee break with a cuppa should anyone want to know. The cat just came in. It's looking like rain.

The cat just forced himself inside a small box full of home-made wines, all I can see are cork-tops and a head. This is going to end well...

Of Stephen Fry writing about writing.

And now I must go and be about some of the same. I have set myself the target of 15,000 words a day (These are rewrites, I need to add! Not actual writing, for which 15,000 words a day would be an insane target!) to complete this bloody thing in a week.

I am turning teh internets off. I am sitting down at my laptop with my serious intent face on. I may be gone some time.

Stephen Fry tweets:  Damn this cricket is tense. I'm having arse babies.

I thought you might like to know. In other news, our new lawnmower is doing a most splendid job down the frighteningly wild, surprisingly vast side garden. A lawn may yet be achieved, despite sudden unexpected vole attack.

It's gone all dark out there, it's going to pee it down, isn't it? Time to open the wine, methinks.

Posting from the garden, the sun is out, all is lush and green and lovely. Stephen Fry is talking glorious nonsense on listen again on fabulous Radio Four, (two national treasures in one delightful, easy to use package!) I have tea, everything smells of mown grass and jasmine, swallows swooping in the field at the back. What a lovely country this is, to be sure.

I am glad to be alive today.

I just thought I'd mention it, for the record and all that.

I love Twitter ::laughing like a maniac::

And now I must set down my delicious coffee, a free sample from these people (who I needs must plug because their coffee is fantastic!) and venture forth to Botany Bay for compost to supplement my own rather wet and disastrous stuff, and perlite and pea sticks, French Marigolds, a quince and - gosh! All sorts of gardeny wonders, really. I'm thinking of trying a kiwi (didn't we use to call them Chinese Gooseberries? Like Sharon fruit, aka persimmons, a masterpiece of marketing, Kiwis, you done good there) and a fig this year, too. Yes, it's all excitement here.

I think I really should go and pay my TV License too, before the Beeb send the boys round. And then it's writing all day, pretty much - novel, coming on well after a characterly-glitch, I'm happy to say. Then there's the TS fic which is 3 chapters from complete but this particular chapter, being all about letters and angsty confessions and The Meaning Of Life O:! is taking its time. A difficult birth but I expect we'll get there in the end, she said bravely.

Right then, girding those loins. It's all HOT and sunny O:! out there. Could this be this 'Global Warming' one hears so much about?

But I just have to pass this on (and I hope he wont mind but I've purloined this from davidbrider , all credit be unto him)

STEPHEN FRY TWEETS ON THE SUBJECT OF SLASH