Severe Weather Warning ...

These snow pictures were taken on 4th December the first near our house and the second overlooking the sea where we walk Alice most days .

The severe weather warning on Metcheck suggests more snow will be arriving on Monday , coming from Russia . Today the temperatures are at 6degrees but its so windy that that the dog was prancing like a pony and quite unable to enjoy her walk . The noise of the wind and attendant bangings outside make her nervous and she attempts to nip off home at every corner . Suits me as its still cold out there , I'm still suffering the after effects of a drugged up week and a half and another day catching up at home is not without its attractions . I'm completely caught up in Lionel Shriver "The Post Birthday World" .

I wish ...

I wish I didn't have migraines .
I wish a lot of things weren't the way they are . But , since they are , its good to have this photograph of Brinkburn Priory from last year . To look through this window and picture stepping out onto this lawn again later this Spring when the cold has gone and the head is clear and the pressure is less and .....watch the dog flying about and hope the English heritage man doesn't catch us .

Mr F will enlarge here if you want to see him in the water . Brrr ! Brave man !

Is your daughter allowed to swear ?

Today most of my plans have been cancelled due to a sickness / achey joints thing that has been creeping up for a day or two .

My CatCalling done and the dog walked , I settle back into the armchair in an array of comfort-clothes, namely my skinny jeans now baggy due to weight loss ( ha! not that I'm boasting and I am well aware that this is fragile and could change at any moment ) , a silk camisole now settling somewhat lower on the torso than it should , due to different aspects of the above ( the semi disappearance of the chest ) a striped cashmere sweater ( no issues apart from a large darn under the arms ) and a zipped up puffa waistcoat . Makes a change from the Lush pj bottoms and the bravissimo top and soft downy plush bathrobe with giraffe spots in brown and cream : a pile of newspapers to hand and a pot of lapsang souchong tea at the ready .

I have time . There are no pressures . I can take a slow chug through the travel section and enjoy at my leisure Tim Dowling's family ski ing trip in St Moritz. It will be as if I were away myself , and if ski ing does not take my fancy today , already having spotted Mr Fit- and -Eighty -if-he's-a-Day throwing himself into the icy waves on King Edward's Bay , and indeed photographed the moment for your amusement , then maybe Haneif Kureishi's trip with his son to Venice may be more my thing until at least my own fingertips have de-iced, and who would blame me ?

(Click to see Mr F in the water )

But .... and here's the thing , Tim Dowling is funny and relevant wherever he is and today he is talking about his boys ;

"The exhileration of the first day ( on the slopes ) ..is slightly tarnished by the walk back to the ski hire shop , listening to my children swearing behind me " and my heart leaps .

Tim , you are so on my wave length !

Though I failed to mention it earlier this week , I had a mobile phone adventure towards the end of the Grace Jones gig , when my new touch screen phone was located behind my seat at the Sage and handed back to me by a kind stranger . It had parted company with its back but as we were all filing out at this point I stuffed it in its entirety into my coat pocket only realising later that the sim card was missing .

Return to Hall One was necessary , scrabbling behind seats was done , to no avail , and the Sage engineers continued to dismantle Ms Jones's hydraulic platform in peace .

Meanwhile my phone was behaving most strangely . It no longer appeared to believe that its sim card was missing but instead was intent on making calls , to my local out of hours emergency doctors service and nothing I said or did would stop it . ( Touch phones , you have to hand it to them , once on a roll there is no stopping them ! ) The doctors were understanding . I was mortified . After them it rang a professional contact of mine . Argh ! At almost midnight . Not good . I finally managed to move it on so that if it rang anyone it would be my daughter's friend , so that I could ask her advice ..she has the same phone .

A text arrived from N telling me about her evening . She had had cider spilled on her by a large lady at the Pussycat Dolls and her description of the event contained a colourful expletive .

" Oh " said my friend curiously , trying to help me with the management of this evil phone which was completely beyond my control at this point . " Is your daughter allowed to swear ? "

There is really no answer to this .

It is the same question as " are your pets allowed on the soft furnishings " .

Kitty ( above ) was wondering the same thing about Greyhounds . Background detritus reflects onset of flu like symptoms . That's my story and I'm sticking to it . Usually D would not allow said detritus . Flu like symptoms largely his .

Grace Jones at the Sage

I saw Grace Jones last night at the Sage , see above for images of Ms Jones now and (top) , how she looked at the time of her

well known attack on Mr Harty on his own show of all things .

Though for a while I avoided the Sage , I now revel in the upmarket ambiance and views across the Tyne from Gateshead towards Newcastle and the knowledge that in such a small world I am bound to bump into someone I know , but without the actual bumping which goes on in the City hall which is wonderful but altogether more of a crush .

Back to Grace Jones , an icon whose images were postered in the wine bars and drinking emporia of my twenties . Three shots for a pound after work on the sea front , with a six foot tall model on a leash with an oiled body and pushed into a cage glaring out at us . Grace Jones as angry big cat , claws at the ready .

Now sixty years old , nothing much

seems to have changed . She appears after something of a delay on a hydraulic platform looking like a zwarovski jewel , huge stiffened feather adorning her head and adding two feet to her height , and wearing a man's suit jacket , leggings and skyscraper heels .

As the show progressed there was a costume change with each song ( how does she do that ? ) and the audience was treated to increasing displays of..... well ... not to put too fine a point on it , everything . Accustomed as we are to displays of nudity behind the body stocking and flesh coloured undergarment , I found myself turning my head from side to side and thinking , why is the word "pudenda " springing to mind here as the only suitable word to describe what we are seeing and which is it which seems the rudest , that , or the intriguing way she manages to shimmer her well honed bottom cheeks ( at sixty ? ) . At audience participation time it seems the latter . The chaps giving it what for with her to " Pull up to the Bumper " can't resist cupping her cheeks and she chuckles " hey I think I'm gonna get laid here " or words to that effect . I am more fascinated by the guy who as she dances close is sidling off stage left .....

Without a doubt her body is amazing , her voice stunning and as far as I could see no one got slapped about . The excitement was palpable throughout and if I hadn't had such a migrainey , stressy day for quite other reasons , you may have seen me raking through boxes digging out some old vinyl version of Nightclubbing .

Grace Jones , what a legend .....Grace Jones Interview : Celebrity Interviews - Access interviews with the worl

Live music review: Dave Simpson on Grace Jones Music The Guardian

Yoko Ono at the Baltic , Gateshead

I managed to take a few shots before I got the tap on the shoulder thatYoko Ono - BALTIC Centre for Contemporary Art reminded me that I shouldn't have my camera out at these functions .

But , its irresistible . How can I explain the perfect magic wish tree without a photograph . How can I inspire you all to come to Newcastle / Gateshead to see the tree and pin up your own wish ?

The first one I read made me walk away to laugh in private , so strong was the wish to capture it on film yet I knew the light was not right , nor the crowds .

" I wish there was not hair all over my crack " .

Only in Newcastle I thought .....

On second thoughts , I have no guarantees about who wrote it . Or from whence they came , for that matter .

Where are you from ? What do you think ? Would such a price of poetry issue forth in your neck of the woods ?

More pictures tomorrow from The Baltic , unless the man who tapped on my shoulder has me closed down overnight .

I only have two more so I think it's unlikely .

Technology !
I can use touch screen phones , though its taken me a few days to realise it . And I can upload my own photos from the phone as well as from the camera without reference to Nat , though it did take me a while to get that bit organised .( poking cd s into the laptop and figuring out what they meant ) . And this time it was almost worth it as the resulting shots are ok , the outdoors one anyway .
What really galls me is that being one of those sad adults who reads the manual would you believe , is that there are almost no instructions on how to use the camera , so its all trial and error , mostly error .
I did consult Katherine, who is 14, and has the same phone , regarding the so called smile feature , which didn't appear to be working . This apparently enables the camera to detect when someone is smiling and yes , take a shot automatically . Ha! As nothing much about either phone or camera worked first time ,( my ineptitude) I hurried off to see K , but on this one she admitted defeat . Its rubbish , she said , doesnt work ! What I squealed ? That kind of thing I find completely unacceptable in a silly old bat kind of way which has me reaching for my old fashioned pen and paper , all ready to scribe a pompous letter of complaint to Samsung . K is far more sanguine . Nah she said , munching on her crisps , doesn't work . End of story . No big deal .
I take a deep breath . There are things to be learned here . Who cares really? My subject smiles . I press the shutter by hand . That's what photographs are , really .