How was your day yesterday ?

How was your day yesterday ?  Can I tell you about mine ?

Breakfast was taken late and courtesy of McDonald's drive through. Neither Jake, pictured here left, nor I have been to McDonald's for several weeks so this was a nice treat to start the day. OK, yeh I have been to McDonald's twice for meetings for the OurRebekah Project but on both occasions only drank, nothing to eat, so this was good.  I love McDonald's hasbrowns.

Why is it you can not buy hashbrowns of McDonald's quality in a supermarket freezer cabinet ?  The rubbish you buy there tastes of nothing but onion. I think I may go to McDonald's, but say ten hashbrowns, put them in my freezer and then have them for breakfast over one or two days.

Suitably fortified I was ready to make the journey to London. It was going to a very important meeting with friends from Ronald McDonald House Charities which would enable us to get

things moving for OurRebekah. I was nervous, so much rested on my presenting our ideas properly. One of the things we were to discuss was CHALLENGES, doing something a bit bonkers and silly then using it to generate support for Ronald McDonald House Charities. My journey to London started with a challenge.

It has been something like twenty-five years since I last rode on a 'bus. I was going to have to take a 'bus from home to Central Milton Keynes railway station.  Parking near to the station is a rip off - BIG TIME rip off, and there was nobody to give me a lift. The 'bus was the only option.

Last time I rode on a 'bus I had to pay. This time I had a bit of plastic issued by the council

which allowed me to ride free of charge - AN OLD AGE PENSIONER BUS PASS.

The 'bus driver had to show me how to use it !

Riding on a 'bus was not a bad experience, it wasn't particularly good either. I would say it was functional. The 'bus was clean and comfortable. It is an experience I would undergo again if necessity demands but it is not something I would go out of my way to arrange.

Completely unintentional, I simply sat in a seat near the front when I got on, I found I was sitting in a seat reserved for the elderly and infirm. I was a bit embarrassed but thought I could always move if an old dear got onboard and needed the seat. Then I realise I was an old boy perfectly entitled to sit in a seat reserved for old codgers !

Call me a snob if you must but I am not prepared to travel on a train in the cheapo economy standard seats. I do not travel on the train very often but will always travel first class so I can have a bit of comfort, use the lounge at stations and be guaranteed a seat.

Milton Keynes Central Railway Station does not have a first class lounge so I dipped very deep into my pocket to buy a drink and a packet of biscuits which I sat comfortable in the over priced Pumpkin Cafe as I awaited my train.

I had to smile as I saw on the departures board a train from Milton Keynes Central to Northampton with the note CALLING ADDITIONALLY AT TRING !

Any poor sod getting on that train must have had an interesting journey. Tring is South of Milton Keynes while Northampton, as the name suggests, is North of Milton Keynes !

Fortunately I was travelling on Virgin Trains which I hoped had a better grasp of geography than London Midland Trains.

My drink and packet of mini-cheddar biscuits finished, I felt guilty sitting in the cafe andnot eating so I decided to walk down to the platform and sit in the sunshine.

As a train ahead of mine pulled in ,I took careful note of where carriage J was stopping then sat on a bench in the general vicinity so I could find my reserved seat nice and quickly when my train did arrive.

I took out my notebook and began scribbling more words for my book The Bridge House. In the book I am telling of my grandmother, Lily's, life and I am taking the reader through events she knew, major world events, during her 94 years of life but more than that I am trying to help the reader feel what it must have been like to live in the times of Lily Bedson.

On board the train and settled into my seat I continued scribbling, I have about two thousand words from yesterday to type up today.

There's my notepad and pen on the table as the train raced towards London Euston.

It was a coincidence that my meeting with Ronald McDonald House Charities was in Lambeth. In wartime Britain music was used as an aid to raising morale. I was about to write the song THE LAMBETH WALK into the text. My mother and my maternal grandparents came from Lambeth. It was during those war years that the two sides of my family met.

I was looking forward to walking through Lambeth but, as I sat on the train scribbling away, I expected to be disappointed in what I found.

I was not.  I LOVED Lambeth. That wandering up and down Lambeth Road, The Lambeth Walk playing in my head, has brought a lot to my writing..

I loved Lambeth.

As I walked down Lambeth Road that haunting wartime melody was running constantly through my mind. I am listening to it now as I type this diary page.

I actually walked up and down Lambeth Road three times as I could not find Ronald McDonald House where my meeting was to take place.  Perhaps that was my old friend Destiny taking a hand as she made sure I soaked up the atmosphere of Lambeth.

My heart actually beat faster when I found The Lambeth Walk.

The atmosphere was electric and pushing into the text of my book.

I loved Lambeth, I've said that already haven't I ? Hang on I am going to play the song again.

It was a bit sad that the Lambeth Walk pub was now a block of flats. I do not drink but had it still been a pub I would have broken the habit and had a pint there.

Lily was my paternal grandmother. Fred and Ethel Robinson, my maternal grandparents. That is where the ROBINSON bit comes from for my writer's pen name.

Ethel lived to be just a few weeks short of her one hundredth birthday. Fred was a practical joker, I think that is where I have inherited my silly old man character from. During the war Fred and Ethel were bombed out three times yet never stopped loving Lambeth. It was one of these bombings that took my mother and her sister to stay with Lily, my paternal grandmother and brought the two families together. I am now telling that part of the story in the book and building it round The Lambeth Walk.

Sorry but I am going to play that honky tonk piano melody YET again and think back to my childhood and my grandfather bashing it out on his piano.

My reason was not, of course, to dance up and down Lambeth Road but to attend a meeting at Ronald McDonald House. Eventually I found the house tucked away behind the main street and adjacent to Lambeth Palace Gardens. I was nervous about the meeting but more nervous about meeting parents staying in the house. They were there because their children

were sick, I was there because my daughter had died.  I would have loved to chat with them but my presence could have been hurtful. Fortunately the house was empty, all parents were away in the hospital with their children.

This new Ronald McDonald House was huge, far bigger than the one I had know when Rebekah was a child.  It was modern, spacious and very bright. I am sure it is a lovely place for parents of sick children to stay. It is something I so much want OurRebekah to support. I was very impressed.  The house lacked atmosphere but that was simply because it was empty, the parents being away in the hospital.  I am sure when they return it is a buzzing hive of activity where parents not only lovingly support one another but also have the care of staff who are for every on duty.

Yes my tour of the house was a success, even if I had so much difficulty finding it in the first place. Perhaps my geograophy teacher at school also taught London Midland Trains.  Still I think that was Destiny playing a card to keep me on The Lambeth Road for as long as she could.

The meeting to discuss the OurRebekah project was a success, I felt it was from my perspective, I hope Ronald McDonald House Charities staff felt the same. We had to steer ideas round political correctness, copyright issues and McDonald's firm policy not to allow Ronald McDonald House Charities to be used to market its restaurants.  I could not but agree with everything from the McDonald view point, some things I did not like but I could understand the common sense behind everything. OurRebekah is going to have to make some changes which I will share with Beck's Friends and those who are now seeking to associate themselves with the project.

We are going to have to change the way we present things and get away from anything people may see as our promoting McDonald's.  I will today be suggesting to friends and supporters that we focus on Beck's infectious smile, to smile ourselves as we do whatever we do in support of Ronald McDonald House Charities then hand over our efforts to those running the charity to put smiles on the faces of families resident in its houses up and down the country. Does that make sense ?

The meeting over it was back into the sunshine and a quick tube journey to Berkeley Square.

When I started writing The Bridge House I intended to write a chapter, go back and take out they typo's then rewrite the original draft text where I felt it was needed. Only then would I start writing the next chapter. However, I have now decided to wait until the whole book is finished before doing this. A couple of days ago I went back to Chapter One, how I cringed at the typo's, put a hook in to link it to Chapter Three.  That link is Berkeley Square.

My plan was to sit in the park with my notebook, soak up the atmosphere then write like crazy.

PROBLEM !

There was no atmosphere in Berkeley Square to soak up. Any nightingale that may have sung would have had his voice completely drowned by the noise of the traffic.

Lambeth, for me, oozed with atmosphere but I could not find any at all in Berkeley Square.

The park was Ok, nothing spectacular but alright. It could have done with a few flowers to brighten things.

What I did find sweet were the hundreds of benches to sit on, each had a plaque naming two lovers.

I did not find any angels dining at the Ritz so I decided not to take a table there myself. Instead I returned to Euston, purchased a cheese and tomato french stick from Upper Crust and took it up to the Virgin Lounge where I took out the notepad and pen. Without thinking what I was doing I found myself writing about The Lambeth Walk and closing down Lily's love, in the story, of Berkeley Square.

Back on the train the book and pen came out again. I think I have, today, about two thousand words to type up for Chapter Three. two thousand words and I wonder how many typo's. have you found any in this diary ?  I like to leave a few in for those who delight in finding them !

So that was my day yesterday. A good day but one which now leaves me with a mountain of work to do both for my book The Bridge House but also for the OurRebekah project.

Before I bring this diary entry to a close I have to return to The Lambeth Walk. Hang on I am going to play it again to myself while I type.

Those who know me are aware that my outlook and philosophy is LIFE IS A DISCO - SO DANCE.  I have loved music since I was nine years old and started a rebellion at school where music was only taught to the girls. That arrogant little boy won the battle !  During World War Two music was a battle tool.  Songs like A Nightingale Sang In Berkeley Square and The Lambeth Walk were great morale boosters. Hitler hated The Lambeth Walk, he hated it more than any other piece of music. Someone took The Lambeth Walk and played it over some German film footage. It still exists but the sound is crackly. I have re-edited it and will leave you and this diary entry with a special version of the Lambeth Walk.

I do hope that made you smile.