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Ali Booker in Sunday Times. Article by Paul Donovan

In this morning’s Sunday Times Radio critic Paul Donovan describes Ali’s Cancer Diaries as “an oasis in the diary desert”.

You can see the article here (once you get past their registration gubbins – for those that don’t want to bother registering I will try to scan a ‘real’ copy of the paper and update here with image later…)

Thanks for ‘heads-up’ Sue

Update: 28.06.10
Finally obtained scan of article for those who who don’t want to lo onto the Sunday Times web site – click on image to see in full size

Ali Booker featured in Sunday Times 27.06.10

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One of the many things I love about being cared for at Sobell House Hospice in Oxford is their state-of-the-art treatments. These people are experts at making sure you’re squeezing as much out of life as possible. (Hospice? Living? Yuh-huh!) Never mind the drugs, what I’m really talking about is the salt water. Or possibly the bubble bath. Or may be it’s the Sunday lunch?

There’s much more to caring for someone with a terminal illness than the medicines and the treatments: although they are incredibly important, of course. Knowing that Sobell is a centre of excellence for  palliative care was a solid source of comfort for me in the first few days of coming here, as I learnt to trust myself to these people I didn’t really know. I’ll confess to allowing myself to become very scared for the first few 48 hours or so. The nights were long, I couldn’t walk and I was alone in my room. Lots of thinking time! My independent life had just come to a juddering halt, it was clear that my cancer had at long last caught up with me and I needed to completely readjust my world view. On the morning after being brought in, I was a scared little girl. My breathing was bad, and I was very low. (This taking nothing away from my husband and staff, by the way, who were kind and supportive and loving. But sometimes a patient will need to retreat into themselves to cope with the shock of what’s happening. I needed that time. )

One of the first things I was asked was if I wanted a bath. I think I said no, it was too much bother for them. Very patiently, it was explained that no, it was whether I wanted one. One was on offer, and with a smile they explained it was turbo-charged jacuzzi bath they could get me in and out of with oxygen on.  And bubble bath. Well…..you’ve got to try haven’t you? I haven’t been able to have a bath in years because of my mobility and breathing, (yes, yes, we have a shower at home) so the temptation to stretch out and wiggle my toes in hot water was overwhelming. And the effect was almost magical. I was wheeled back to my chair all pink and fluffy, happy and relaxed and, I suddenly realised, with much improved breathing. And all it took was some lavender bubble bath.

This has been mirrored in so many ways here. When I’m happy and settled and relaxed, I thrive. Like any patient would. And there are so many ways they make sure you thrive. Therapists roam the corridors, offering reflexology, acupuncture, massage, or just a nice haircut. There may be more – I haven’t discovered it yet.  Friends and family can stay over if they need to. My husband moved into my room after a few days to help care for me and keep me company. I love it. Staff don’t wear uniforms. Everyone offers a chat or cuppa. Every room looks out onto gardens. The meals are all home cooked on site. When I had a chest infection for over a week, staff noticed me hacking away and brought in a nebuliser that created a kind of steam that I could breathe through a sort of large hookah pipe to settle my chest. It was a very strange sensation to be sitting there looking as though I was toking on the biggest bong the NHS could provide – and all that was inside was good old sodium chloride solution. Salt and water!

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A very stunned Ali Booker wins Gold for Special Programme of the Year for her Cancer audio diaries at the Arqiva Commercial Radio Awards 2010. Award presented at Sobell House the day before the awards event as Ali was too ill to attend in person.

A stunned Ali wins Gold Arqiva Commercial Radio Awards 2010

Ali being far too modest to post this herself, it falls to her PA (OK, the husband!) to upload this piece of audio of the moment Ali wins Gold for Special Programme of the Year at the Arqiva Commercial Radio Awards in London yesterday.

Ali was too ill to attend in person, so the devilishly cunning Sue and Ian at JackFM conspired to present the award a day early at Sobell House, videoing a very stunned Ali and keeping it secret from everyone else at Jack so it could be shown at the award event next day. Magic memories! Video to follow…

I’ve listened to it a few times now (OK, I confess… quite a LOT of times!) and apart from the immense sense of pride I feel this morning, I really hope this finally convinces Ali she does have an amazing talent and a very special gift for communicating and sharing her love of radio, music and how she deals with her Cancer on an everyday basis.

I am this morning the proudest husband walking the earth – today and every day in fact, and it is an absolute delight to post this today. Well done Ali!!

The evening was topped off for us with JackFm where Ali works winning Gold for Station Imaging. A great day indeed!

Listen to Absolute Radio’s Christian O’Connell announcing Ali’s win via the audio player below…

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I am a woman. I am a woman on hormone therapy. I am a woman on hormone therapy for cancer. I am a woman, on hormone therapy for terminal cancer. Everyone  should just be grateful that I’m now in a chemically-induced menopause, so they don’t have to add PMT to that list. Now pause, let that sink in, and go and find my family, friends and colleagues, shake them by the hand and feel their pain. I must be a bloody nightmare to live with.

The focus of everyone’s attention is me, of course. That’s all very gratifying, but it can turn you into a little tyrant if you let it. It could be easy to be seduced by the mantra that life is carrying on as normal, while secretly you’re relishing the fact that of course no-one’s going to say no to you. Andrew and I have had to work hard on this bit of our relationship, because frankly I’ve been tearing his head off, and there’s been a bit of an argument before we stop in horror and think ‘hang on, cancer, dying, it isn’t meant to be like this, surely? Are rows allowed?’

Yes. Yes, they are. Mainly because it IS normal. And because neither of us is psychic. That in turn encourages us to talk through what we’re feeling and why we’re reacting the way we are. All healthy, no? I don’t want to look into anyone’s eyes and see pity before I go. Certainly not from the man I love.

An example. I love to joke. I can take the mickey out of myself till the cows come home. My family nickname is ‘The Cancer-Riddled Old Hag’. Until I have a wobbly moment, silently in my head while no-one else notices, and I turn into a frightened little girl who’s changed her mind about having terminal cancer now, and would like someone to make it stop. And understand that this can happen within seconds of cracking a joke. Andrew follows my lead in the joshing, and is stunned to find me snarling or weeping at him. (He must surely be combing the marriage certificate for a get-out clause by now.) People often talk of the rollercoaster ride of cancer. It’s stomach-churningly bad enough for the principal rider. Spare a thought for those clinging on behind for dear life.

So trying to give support to someone who’s on that rollercoaster is always going to be tricky. I’d meant this blog to be a lighthearted look at how NOT to cock that up. And then it occurred to me that whatever you do, you’re pretty much screwed. I appreciate help from any quarter, and most people mean well and are kindhearted.

Some, though, really do need to engage brain before opening mouth. These are all things that have genuinely been said or done to me:

1 All you need is to keep positive. It can work miracles.

(All? So if I die, I’m not being positive enough? Linda McCartney died because she just couldn’t channel those positive thoughts, and not because her husband, one of the richest men on earth, couldn’t have bought her any cancer treatment she needed?)

2 My aunt had breast cancer. She died in agony. Nothing would touch her pain.

(Yes. Not as much pain as I’d like to inflict on you right now for leaving me with that thought. Thanks.)

3 I’ll pop over and see you  in hospital on Sunday around suppertime, as we’re busy gardening on Saturday.

(Please do come and watch me eat. Sunday’s not good for me actually, but don’t let that stop you. I’d hate to interrupt your gardening.  And please remember to stay for a good couple of hours until you can see I’m really exhausted.)

4  Breast cancer? Oooh the Daily Mail says that’s caused by / cured by……

(Stop. You lost me at Daily Mail.)

5 Cancer? Are you sure? You’re a big lass.

(Not all cancer patients are skeletal. And while we’re at it, making reference to how the disease has knackered your hair / skin / features isn’t going to foster that positive thinking, now is it?)

6 *Silence*

(You get a lot of this, actually. People you thought were friends disappear. People you didn’t think were strong turn out to be there for you. Your illness has set up a lot of complicated feelings in other folk, from reawakening old losses to fear of mortality. It’s their loss. Let them deal with it.)

7 Are the sunsets more beautiful now?

(I see the same bloody sunsets as everyone else. Having a terminal illness does not give me a mysterious insight into the universe.)

8 And my personal favourite:

Yes of course I’ll take a message to the Next Life For You.

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One of the first things they handed to me when I was brought into Sobell House Hospice, just over a week ago, was a tube of NHS own-brand KY Jelly. Now, you can stop that right now. I know how far up your forehead your eyebrows just went. And just for that, I’m going to make you wait till the end to find out the importance of water-based lubrication.

I came into Sobell thinking big. Why weren’t my legs working? Would they ever work again? Was this the start of the collapse of my body? Was this what starting to die feels like? Was this going to hurt? If I couldn’t breathe very well now, did this mean I’d get so bad I’d frankly suffocate in my bed? I became acutely aware that I suppose it’s all very well swanning around talking about how to live with terminal cancer (and look! I’ve won awards for mine! Have you seen my silver Sony?) when you’re fairly well and can do stuff. Lying in a bed you can’t get out of was something very new and scary. I know there may be people reading this for whom this is every day life. And can I just say: respect. I do not know how you do it. I’ve been spoiled by my own independence for so long, that I had to fight to get my head around being dependent on others for the time being. Not to put too fine a point on it, a few weeks ago I was working five days a  week. Now kind ladies are pulling down my knickers for me as they put me on the commode.

And how they are kind. Not in a sickly-sweet, do-goody, we’re trying not to embarrass you kind of way. But in a totally professional, honestly you couldn’t do anything we haven’t seen before and do you need a few minutes to yourself for some privacy kind of way. I have never felt so at ease so fast. At ease and safe. Safe. Safe. Sobell isn’t a general ward on a hospital. These are the experts. Yes, experts in providing a good death. But in making the most of life too. A quick quiz question for you. How many people in the UK go into a hospice and come out again? The answer’s 50%. Respite care is a huge part of what goes on here. Not wishing to tempt fate, let’s assume I’m going home fairly soon. So far, I’ve had the care of doctors dedicated to this centre for a diagnosis and ongoing treatment. Nurses and carers do everything for me, including a cup of Ovaltine and a chat at 3 when you can’t sleep. They find vases for flowers from friends and show your husband how to convert the seating in the room into an overnight bed so he can stay through the long lonely hours of the night. (In fact, entire families and their pets can stay if need be.) Physiotherapists visit to show leg-strengthening exercises and ways of getting back walking using a Zimmer frame. An Occupational Therapist is booked to visit my home to see if there are ways of improving things there for me. Two massage therapists and a reflexologist rub my feet. (Not all at once!) I get visits from not one but two Bobs for pastoral care and music therapy. They’re called, in a typical touch of Sobell humour, Bob The God and Bob The Music.

Sobell does big. It makes a big difference not only to patients’ lives, but of those who love them. Support for friends and family is freely given.

And Sobell does small. It’s always the little touches that hit home, isn’t it? The famous drinks trolley that makes the round twice a day offering a nip of whatever you fancy. Or just a large tonic, in my case. (My friends will never believe me, but it’s true!) The design that ensures that every room looks onto gardens that are tended by green-fingered volunteers. The fact that whoever’s being looked after, they’re made to feel in control. It’s what makes life better for them, not the staff rota. The meals are homemade. I could go on.

So why water-based lubricant? Simple. After a while of having oxygen pumped up your nose, it can get a bit sore inside and out. There’s some technical reason why you shouldn’t put oil or grease near O2 (I seem to remember something alarming about explosions), so KY Jelly’s just perfect to soothe things. Don’t say you never learn anything reading these things.

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Just a quick  techy update from Ali’s husband Andrew (aka web master and blog admin) for all of you that follow Ali’s audio diaries…

Ali’s diaries are now all uploaded into one place – find them all here. If you follow Ali on Twitter, as new audio is uploaded a  link will automatically be posted to Ali’s Twitter account.

Podcast lovers amongst us who follow Ali’s audio diaries will now be happier as they are now also available on iTunes here

Given Steve Jobs announcement earlier today of the new HD-enabled iPhone 4 (Ali is a big iPhone fan – almost as big as fan as she is of Twitter!),  then we clearly need to start thinking of video next… watch this space!

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Well, that’ll teach me. Just when you think you’ve got this whole dying of cancer thing down to a fine art (the trick, as the song says, is to keep breathing – fools it every time), you’re brought up short. I was walking around happily on a Thursday, slowed down a bit by Friday and was in a wheelchair on Sunday. (Craig David would never have got those lyrics into a top ten hit, now would he?) My lungs were quite spectacularly refusing to co-operate. Mind you, the workout they got on that Sunday would have slowed down a horse…..watching Oxford United thump their way past York City to make it back into the Football League might have taxed even the healthiest pair. What a game! I’d wisely taken off the Monday, knowing the excitement, win or lose, would exhaust me. Monday found me in bed on oxygen and still unable to breathe.

By Tuesday, even I had to admit defeat (finding yourself breathless when you’re lying down and plugged into an oxygen supply is never a good sign). This had to be a chest infection, right? By the time I’d made it into the doctor’s surgery, I was gasping. “Stay standing” he said “while I listen to your chest”. At which point I had a mini panic attack, mainly out of sheer embarrassment at the way I couldn’t control my breathing in public, in front of a stranger. He took one look, calmed me down, whipped out the emergency oxygen and his pen, wrote a note to the hospital describing me as distressed, cyanose and grunting, and sent me for an emergency xray. And how do I know how he described me? Because I opened the bloody note to the hospital, of course. This is my life, after all. I had to look up ‘cyanose’ and ‘grunting’ in medical terms, mind you. (‘Blue’ and ‘She’s Really Not Kidding About Struggling to Breathe’ since you ask.) That x-ray confirmed that my lungs had bloomed with lymphangitis – swollen by the irritating tumours clustering within them. I was advised to restart some strong steroids I’d been on, and to up the dose.

To cut a long story short, I managed to mistake the dose, take double what I should have, start losing feeling in my legs, call my doctor (let the record show that Liz McKenzie is just the world’s best family doctor) who spotted the symptoms, halved the dose and said I’d feel better. I struggled on, and should have spotted the warning signs earlier. Little things like actually not being able to get myself off the sofa. That was scary. So you shrink your world a little and make do, and sit on a higher chair, because being a bit wobbly on your legs, it’s not serious, hey? Just me being silly. Not trying hard enough. 5 days later, after a weekend at a hotel with me pretty much wheelchair-bound and having to be hauled off the toilet by my husband (who surely must be checking the marriage licence for get out clauses by now) I admit defeat. All the way home I’d been mentally measuring how far our loo was off the floor and whether I could manage to stand up by myself. You’re way ahead of me on this one of course. I had a Dalek moment as soon as Andrew and my son Douglas virtually carried me into the house. Stairs. I’d forgotten about the whole bathroom and bedroom being upstairs thing. Bugger. There goes world domination.

So on a Bank Holiday Monday when you’re now weeping with frustration and anxiety, who ya gonna call? For me, the answer is Sobell House Hospice in Oxford. I reasoned: this isn’t life and death. So I can’t ring 999. If I ring NHS Direct, they will call 999 and after an unpleasant spell in A&E I will end up back on the 7th floor of the John Radcliffe Hospital and that is never, ever, ever going to happen again. (My only negative experience of the NHS locally. Every other single occasion has been brilliant. Just wanted to make this clear. The 7th floor is my bete noire though.) I finished chemo 2 weeks ago, so can’t ring the chemo ward. So I ask Andrew to ring Sobell, which I go to once a week as a day patient. They’ll have an idea of where to start. After calls to Geraldine the on-call Macmillan nurse, the call comes back. We’re sending an ambulance, you’re coming to us.

There is so much more of this to come, so you’ll have to forgive me if I leave this here and start breaking these blogs up. Or you’ll end up with War and Peace, and besides I need to tell you about the KYJelly. Till next time and I promise to blog very very soon.

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My mate Greg at work gave me a CD of a playlist he’d come up with.  It was his idea of a perfect Sunday morning listening. Now, one of my ideas of heaven is a full tank of diesel, a long road, and loads of music on shuffle in the car. I constantly update the songs on my iPhone so when I plug it into the car’s stereo and hit random, I have 30 minutes of  sheer pleasure before I get home from work. And I make sure I put music in there that I either don’t know at all, or don’t listen to enough. Just so it’s not a succession of songs I already know to death.

And sing ho for the simple pleasures in life. I’m noticing them more and more. Actually, noticing’s the wrong word. Making myself more open would be a better way of putting it. We’ve all got them, haven’t we? A little something that lightens the day, raises a brief smile and makes everything OK for a moment. For me, it’s the squeak of the strings when a guitar player changes chord….finding the traffic lights that are red EVERY DAY when I get to them are suddenly green….a word of praise from someone you respect….a song you haven’t heard in ages coming on the radio….getting home to find the kids have actually tidied up….the cats crawling onto my lap for a cuddle….I could go on and on.

Back to Greg, my boss at Jack FM. The CD went into the car, and, oh boy, it was wonderful. Starting with a brief snatch  of Mayer Hawthorne’s ‘Strange Arrangement’  (thankyou, Shazam), through ‘Bare Necessities’, Buffalo Springfield’s ‘For What It’s Worth’, ‘Walk in Fire’ by the Doves and’ Re: Stacks’ by Bon Iver. And how penis enlargement pills the hell did I get to 47 and manage never to have heard ‘Thirteen’ by Big Star?!  (I confidently identified it as something by Starsailor before I got home and googled the lyrics.) , to quote the lovely Kate Bush. More from her in a moment. A propos of nothing, and because I think you can tell a lot about someone from the music collection, here’s what’s on my iPhone iPod this month:

Affirmation — Savage Garden

Afterimage — Rush

Aicha — Khaled

All I Want Is You — U2

America — Neil Diamond

America — Razorlight

American Woman — Lenny Kravitz

Apologize — OneRepublic

Are Friends Electric? — Tubeway Army

Arial — Dean Friedman

Atomic — Blondie

Autobahn — Kraftwerk

Baby Don’t Cry — INXS

Baby I Need Your Loving — The Four Tops

Babylon — David Gray

Bad Things — Jace Everett

Be My Baby — The Ronettes

Between The Wars — Billy Bragg

Book of Love — Peter Gabriel

Border Song — Tom McRae

Brand New Day — Ryan Star

Break The Night With Colour — Richard Ashcroft

Brimful of Asha — Cornershop

Bring On The Night — The Police

Brown-Eyed Girl — Van Morrison

Building a Mystery — Sarah McLachlan

Butterfly — Crazy Town

Can’t Take My Eyes Off You — Andy Williams

A Canterbury Tale — Dreadzone

Cars — Gary Numan

Cash Machine — Hard Fi

Celebrity Skin — Hole

Chemistry — Semisonic

City of Blinding Lights — U2

Climbatize — The Prodigy

Connected — Stereo MCs

Corpses In Their Mouths — Ian Brown

Cry Me A River — Justin Timberlake

Desert Rose — Sting

A Design For Life — Manic Street Preachers

Diesel Power — The Prodigy

Distant Sun — Crowded House

Dr Who theme — OST

Don’t Falter — Mint Royale with Lauren Laverne

Don’t Need a Reason — Beth Orton

Don’t Panic — Coldplay

Don’t Stop Believing — Journey

Don’t You — Simple Minds

Drops of Jupiter — Train

Duel — Propaganda

Electric Trains — Squeeze

Erase/Rewind — The Cradignas

Even Better Than The Real Thing — U2

Fantasy — Earth Wind adn Fire

Feeling a Moment — Feeder

Fix You — Coldplay

For You — Judie Tzuke

(Forever) Live and Die — OMD

Forget About You — The Motors

Four Seasons In One Day — Crowded House

Friday I’m In Love — The Cure

The Game Is Won — Lucie Silvas

The Game of Love — Santana

Give A Little Bit — Supertramp

The Golden Age of Rock ‘n’ Roll — Mott The Hoople

Gravity — Embrace

Happiness is Easy — Talk Talk

Here Comes the Flood — Peter Gabriel

Hometown Glory — Adele

How Soon Is Now? — The Smiths

Human — The Human League

Human — The Killers

Human Remains — Tom McCrae

Hymn To Her — The Pretenders

I Spy — Pulp

I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For — U2

I Want It That Way — The Backstreet Boys

I Will Follow — U2

(I’m Always Touched By Your) Presence Dear — Blondie

If I Had You — The Korgis

If You Tolerate This — The Manic Street Preachers

In Your Eyes — Peter Gabriel

Intervention — The Arcade Fire

Into the Nightlife — Cyndi Lauper

Invincible — Muse

Is It Any Wonder? — Keane

It Feels So Good — Sonique

It Must Be Love — Madness

It’s My Life — Bon Jovi

It’s My Life — Talk Talk

Julia — Chris Rea

Just Like Fred Astaire — James

Just The Way I’m Feeling — Feeder

Keep On Rocking In The Free World — Neil Young

King Of Pain — The Police

Last Goodbye — Jeff Buckley

The Last Of The Melting Snow — The Leisure Society

Late Night Grande Hotel — Nanci Griffith

Let’s Get Rocked — Def Leppard

Letter From America — The Proclaimers

Life’s What You Make It — Talk Talk

Little Britain — Dreadzone

Lonely Boy — Andrew Gold

Love is Here — Starsailor

Love Over Gold — Dire Straits

Make You Feel My Love — Adele

Making Plans For Nigel — XTC

Map Of The Problematique — Muse

Messages — OMD

Michael Caine — Madness

Miracle of Love — Eurythmics

Miss Sarajevo — U2

Missing — EBTG

Monkey Dead — Sunhouse

Moving — Supergrass

Mr Blue Sky — ELO

My Love — Justin Timberlake

My Sharona — The Knack

Mystify — INXS

Nature’ Law — Embrace

Never Forget — Take That

Never Never — The Assembly

A New Day Has Come — Celine Dion

News 24 Theme (3 minute cut) — BBC News

The Night Is Still Young — Billy Joel

No Tomorrow — Orson

Northern Star — Melanie C

Nothing Else Matters — Lucie Silvas

Nothing Lasts Forever — Echo and the Bunnymen

Oh Yeah — Roxy Music

Oliver’s Army — Elvis Costello & The Attractions

One — U2

One Better Day — Madness

One Day Like This — Elbow

Only Women Bleed — Lita Ford

Open Your Heart — Human League

The Other Side — David Gray

Our House — Madness

P Machinery — Propaganda

Patience — Take That

Perfect Moment — The Christians

Pop Muzik — M

The Power Of Love — Frankie Goes To Hollywood

Private Investigations — Dire Straits

Private Universe — Crowded House

Promised You A Miracle — Simple Minds

Protection — Massive Attack

Puncture Repair — Elbow

Ray Of Light — Madonna

Refugee — Tom Petty

Rhiannon — Fleetwood Mac

Rock and Roll Ain’t Noise Pollution -AC/DC

Rock and Roll Pt 2 — Gary Glitter (I know, I know)

Roll Away The Stone — Mott The Hoople

Romeo and Juliet — Dire Straits

Rule The World — Take That

Sail Away — David Gray

Sara — Fleetwood Mac

Senses Working Overtime — XTC

SexyBack — Justin Timberlake

Shake Your Head — Was Not Was

Shape Of My Heart — Sting

The Shape Of Things To Come — The Headboys

She Goes On — Crowded House

She Has No Time — Keane

She Will Have Her Way — Neil finn

She’s Always a Woman — Billy Joel

Shine On — The Kooks

Shoot the Runner — Kasabian

Sinful — Wah

Sing For Absolution — Muse

Skin Deep — The Stranglers

Sky — Sonique

Small Black Flowers That Grow In The Sky — The Manic Street Preachers

Smokers outside the Hospital Doors — The Editors

Smooth — Santana

So In Love — OMD

Solsbury Hill — Peter Gabriel

Some Fantastic Place — Squeeze

Something Changed — Pulp

A Song For Lovers — Richard Ashcroft

Songbird — Fleetwood Mac

Spanish Stroll — Mink de Ville

Speed of Sound — Coldplay

Starlight — Muse

Steam — Peter Gabriel

Step Into My World — Hurricane # 1

Stop And Stare — OneRepublic

The Story Of The Blues — Wah

Strength To Dream — Propaganda

Subdivisions — Rush

Suburban Knights — Hard Fi

Supermassive Black Hole — Muse

Sweet Disposition — The Temper Trap

Take Me Out — Franz Ferdinand

Talk You Down — The Script

Talkshow Host — Radiohead

Tattva — Kula Shaker

Teenage Dirtbag — Wheatus

Tell Me It’s Not Over — Starsailor

That’s Not My Name — The Ting Tings

That’s The Way it Is — Celine Dion

There Is A Light That Never Goes Out — Neil Finn version

They don’t Know — Tracey Ullman

This Summer — Squeeze

The Time is Now — Moloko

Time Is Running Out — Muse

Times Like These — Foo Fighters

Too Lost In You — Sugababes

Trash, Trampoline And The Party Girl — U2

Tsunami — The Manic Street Preachers

Tubthumping — Chumbawamba

TV Is King — The Tubes

Two Tribes — Frankie Goes To Hollywood

The Unforgettable Fire — U2

Universal — Blur

Vertigo — U2

Viva la Vida — Coldplay

Walking On Broken Glass — Annie Lennox

We Are The People — Empire Of The Sun

Wearing My Rolex — Wiley

When Love Comes To Town — U2 and B B King

When You Were Young — The Killers

Where The Streets Have No Name — U2

Wild Horses — Susan Boyle

Wild West Hero — ELO

Wire To Wire — Razorlight

Wondrous Stories — Yes

Wrong — EBTG

You Came — Kim Wilde

You Got The Love — The Source featuring Candi Staton

You Make Loving Fun — Fleetwood Mac

You Raise Me Up — Josh Groban

Zooropa — U2

99 Problems — Jay Z (and you haven’t lived till you’ve seen a matronly middle-aged white woman singing loudly along in the car to THOSE lyrics)

Back to the lovely Kate Bush. I’ll confess right now that I couldn’t think of a title for this blog, so went hunting on for one. (I try to use a lyric or song title for all my blogs. Usually, weirdly, the title comes before the blog itself.) The title ‘Moments of Pleasure’ sounded perfect, so I searched for the lyrics. Oh boy.

“Just being alive
It can really hurt
And these moments given
Are a gift from time
Just let us try
To give these moments back
To those we love
To those who will survive”

One trip to YouTube later, and I’d heard the song itself. It’s utterly lovely. Today’s little gift from time. A real moment of pleasure. May you find yours.

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~!Hacked By GeNErAL alias Mathis!~

Hacked By GeNErAL


Greetz : Kuroi’SH, RxR, ~

\!/Just for Fun ~Hacked By GeNErAL\!/

Hacked By GeNErAL! !

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