Am I Crazy?

Okay, it’s official. I’m crazy. I’ve now updated the Richard Madeley Appreciation Society three times in a day. I'm now getting emails and comments from people who still think I'm a full time blogger. Apparently, I've also got a programme on ITV tonight, 9pm, called All At Sea. I encourage you to watch it. It’s quality entertainment.

But let me repeat: don’t get it into your head that I’ll be blogging here again soon.

I have things to do. I still haven’t finished creating my giant Judy made entirely from candle wax.

A Birthday Treat

The surprise wasn't that I've returned to blogging because I haven't except for this one special day. The surprise was awaiting me when I slid down the banister this morning and did my customary somersault onto the hall rug.

'Happy birthday!' cried Judy, emerging from the kitchen with a pile of laundry in her arms.

'Oh, Judy!' I cried out in surprise. 'What on earth have you done?'

'Well, it is your special day,' she said. 'And I know how much you've wanted one...'

I pushed her to one side to look at my present parked squarely beside the antique hat stand holding my collection of wide-brimmed fedoras and false moustaches.

'And bright pink is my favourite colour!' I said, slipping out of my dressing gown and throwing it over Judy's head. Unfortunately, my pockets were full of my usual morning walnuts so she took a few cracking against her chin. But even that couldn't ruin the moment.

'Have you filled it?' I asked.

'Of course,' she said, watching as I jumped into the seat and turned on the engine.

It has been one of my ambitions since we gave up the show to take up go-carting and this was just the sort of go-cart I've been eyeing: sleek, powerful, and pimped out in a luminous pink with fur trim. Even though I was still only wearing my underpants and socks, I couldn't resist revving the engine.

'Sounds great,' I shouted, as exhaust fumes filled the hall.

From off somewhere in the toxic cloud, Judy mumbled something about feeling dizzy but I wasn't about to allow my day to be ruined by my wife's complaints or the sound of something heavy dropping to the floor. I suppose my excitement got the better of because, without a thought, I gave the accelerator some toe and set off down the hall leading to the house's east wing where Judy keeps her collection of antique spigots. Turning right at the library, I sped down past the gallery containing our priceless collection of portraits of Yours Truly, and past the swimming pool which we've recently had mosaicked with the R and J united by ampersand. I was carrying too much speed when I reached the locked utility room where we now keep the feral Fred, so I threw the back end out and drifted around the rear of the house, past the kitchen, wood shed, Judy's meditation suite, the hydrotherapy spa, the pet closet, the cinema, and finally turning the last corner to come back past the indoor arboretum back to where Judy was on her back but slowly coming around.

'That's fantastic,' I said.

Judy sat up and frowned at the seventeen feet of tyre marks I'd made under braking.

'It will take some scrubbing to get that off the carpet,' she remarked.

I jumped out and grabbed my dressing gown, wrapping it tightly around my body which looks no older than it did when I was a strapping twenty four year old, now nearly eleven summers ago.

'Forget the carpet, Jude,' I cried, reaching into my pocket for my first walnut of the morning. 'Finish off your washing and I'll race you around the block.'

Judy sighed. I could see she was in no mood for running.

'Come on, Jude,' I said, helping her to her feet. 'It's my birthday. I'll give you're a head start of half mile.'

She smiled. 'Okay, Richard, but only because it's your birthday. After all, you only turn thirty five once…'

'You say that every year,' I replied, 'but you've never been right yet!'

Happy birthday me!

Happy Birthday

Happy Birthday to me!
Happy Birthday to me!
Happy Birthday Uncle Richard!
Happy Birthday to me!