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22 days into this thing and we’re still trying to calculate the changes that it has made to our lives. I am sure the organisational aspect will settle down a little bit, but it’s very hard to make too many plans as we don’t know when Phoebe will need us, when she’ll be asleep, when she’ll be hungry or when she will do a massive stinky poo (though she always seems to save those for when she knows I am in charge - I don’t think that can just be a coincidence).
I am not knackered yet, but I am weary and a bit clumsier and forgetful than usual. There’s loads of things I want to be getting on with, but now everything takes that little bit longer. I’d hoped to get the Lord of the Dance Settee podcast together today, but had to file all my receipts for the taxman and sort out my eBay packages and that took me all day and I didn’t even finish those chores. I ended up catching up on Warming Up podcasts in the early hours of the morning, with Phoebe on my knee, grizzling and complaining because she was awake in the middle of the night, having pretty much slept through the entire trip we’d had this evening to see her grandparents. It made for some fun heckling to deal with and as I was pretty tired I have little memory of what I said. Though interestingly me reading my blogs out loud did send the baby to sleep for a short time at least. Everyone’s a critic. The blogs were about her and she still wasn’t interested. I managed to get more done between midnight and 2am than I had all day, in spite of a baby grumbling like a zombie on my knee. I even managed to make a hand made T shirt for last month’s monthly draw winner David Wright, based on my tiny Hermione hand. From concept to creation the whole thing maybe took 4 minutes, which you wouldn’t believe looking at it. The idea literally came to me as I laid the T shirt on the floor to draw it. I know you’re jealous and you want one. I quite want one. But these are one off works of art. You can get a handmade T shirt by winning a monthly draw (might not do them every month).
Donate a pound or more a month to take part. Or you can get one by buying tickets to
all 12 of my shows in August/September at the Leicester Square Theatre. David also got a signed snooker ball (worth up to £41 on eBay) and some programmes and stickers.
I also started the day with one of my occasional Twitter services of RTing Richard Dawkings RTing his ow praise. Whilst it’s tempting to occasionally let the world know when someone has said something nice about you, it always amazes me when someone of Dawkings’ reputation and success does this so unfailingly and unflinchingly. You’d think he’d be embarrassed, but he’s not. I can’t work out if I admire him for this or not. I certainly admire him for many things, but unlike Leonard Nimoy he’s a notable figure for whom Twitter tarnishes rather than enhances him. He is certainly like a dog with a bone over the subject of Islam, with a fervour that borders on something unpleasant, even if, as I am sure he is, he is right about the truth of religion in general. I have managed to RT him for months, usually without comment and without him noticing, though someone tipped him off today and I got a reply from him along the lines of “Name me one person who doesn’t retweet their own praise?” (I think he’s since deleted the tweet as I can’t find it). Then lots of people were able to name lots of people who didn’t. It’s fascinating the way that super intelligent and brilliant people can be dickish about certain things. But ultimately I suppose all humans are dicks and some of us are better at hiding it than others. I still love Richard Dawkings for many things, not least for having married a Time Lord and for not being able to spell his own name. And maybe his need to validate himself via RTs shows some humanity. I really want to get to the point where he scans my twitter feed and RTs me whenever I RT praise (it sometimes slips through, though not often). As someone pointed out I am much more likely to RT criticism which probably says more about me that Dawkings RTing of praise does about him.
