Saturday, 19 May 2007

Jackie and I had agreed to spend a long lazy day at home doing absolutely nothing. However, late in the morning Jackie realised that we didn’t have quite enough linen and cotton in our house and this meant an urgent shopping trip to Watford to remedy the problem.

On the return drive, on the A405, we saw scores of grey rabbits alongside scores of other creatures. We agreed that these other creatures looked exactly like chocolate-coloured guinea pigs, but I suppose they could just as well have been chocolate-coloured rabbits with scrawny fur and invisible ears.

In the evening we were too tired to accept an invitation out for a meal. Instead, we watched a BBC 4 programme about Jimi Hendrix. I enjoy a great many musicians and writers and entertainers; and there is lots and lots of good music around today - possibly the best crop of British musicians for decades. But Jimi Hendrix is one of only a very few musicians ever who have made me stop in my tracks with jaw open and think: “how on earth does that happen?”

The only person who produces the same effect on me now is Derren Brown.

And Jackie, of course.