For fathers

Well, I'm grateful that when I began to doze in the afternoon I pressed pause on the tennis first. Nothing the matter with the match, it was me - I just couldn't get warm and I couldn't keep my eyes open after doing the this and that required of me. But, as you might have heard, the match didn't end the way they usually do...nor last as long as it might and if I'd woken up without recording I'd have wondered what I missed. My heart went out to everyone involved...including the officials trying to work out what to do. And I thought I was having a bit of a bad day...

Feeling rather out of sorts what with one thing and another I sought solace in the father figures perhaps of the Dalai Lama and Nicholas Parsons. I love that the former chose Russell Brand to introduce him to the stage in Manchester. I'd heard about it and didn't especially get it, but when I saw them together it made a particular kind of visual sense...or was that just me? And Mr Parsons made me laugh as compere on the delightful Just a Minute and moved me by reciting the Owl and the Pussycat all the way through...

I hope that everyone with fathers thought of them with fondness today. I wish I'd known mine better...