A perculiar yet creative day.

As I am just about to view the Two Hairy Bikers on BBCiplayer, jovially and hirsutely, discussing food in Derbyshire (county of my birth) I reflect upon the day so far. Today is Monday and in the UK, a Bank Holiday Monday, a day in which downpours of rain are a normal expectant.Today did not disappoint in that meteorological aspect. The damp gutters still drip poignantly and the puddles reflect a degas -watery collage of impressionist mucky rainwater and damp crumpled fag packets. Aaah, how one finds art on every street corner. La vie, c'est belle , non?

So arty chums, back to stark reality and, after falling out of my bed at 9am, it is important to know that I furnished myself with a couple of cups of tea and set about typing up several pages of my script for my one man show of 'A Christmas Carol' to be performed in Karlsruhe Germany in early  December 2011.  All this und still casually arrayed in my manly black dressing gown minus cat hairs and no slippers. Reckless ja?

In actuality, I did about five pages of typing so that was a good start to the day. Tapping away with two fingers and, fingernails that really could do with a trim, I stopped my copying and editing at around 11.30am. Then I showered I went to the Co-op store for some bread. Note: I do not say 'strolled along the autumn leaved boulevarde to the witty artisan bakery with devastatingly consise amusing and philosophical thoughts meandering through my brain. We can't all be Sartre or Apollinaire all the time. Especially in the morning. It may pleut a bit but life is unfair, parfois.

A luncheon of some Heinz oxtail soup, a twist of black pepper and an 'unispired loaf that masqueraded as bread' later, I re-positioned myself on the 'sofa of delights' and applied the two afore-mentioned active digits to more work on 'A Christmas Carol'. At this point in diarising, the Cratchits have finished their yummy but cheap Christmas dinner but have yet to apportion a love/hate critique on Ebeneezer Scrooge; the 'founder of the feast'. I have to do this essential work of re-editing 'as and when' I feel like it, coupled with a strong work ethic and sense of 'get it sorted' so I feel comfortable with the final result, sooner rather than später.

I would hate to get off the plane at Karlsruhe Baden Baden un-prepared. Just as long as the basics get done in the next two weeks I will be happy. Then can I add in new structure and the German language element for my Anglo-Germanic audiences.

I have recently downloaded an audio version of Bill Bryson's new book HOME and, having part listened to the first few chapters, am intrigued by the notion of the potential for creating a future theatre piece around the history of the short-lived Victorian cookery writer, Isabella Beeton and her queer prejudices around certain foods like tomatoes and garlic and the general attitude to servants at the time. This is only the beginning for this writing and theatrical adventure. 'Beeton, the musical' perhaps?

The Evening news at 19.00hrs.

Now I need to get flashy in the kitchen and really go to town creating my signature dish of Haricots sur Toast Anglaisse. I'll let you into the secret. Grab a pen folks.

Firstly open a can of economy baked beans. Place in small saucepan. Heat up slowly. Add a touch of British irony, stir well and meanwhile grill toast to a salivating brown colour. If you see smoke its too late for this dish. Spread with President butter (Marge just will not do) and top with hot baked beans. Serve and wolf down immediately. Enjoy without decorating shirt front. Guten Appetit!