Sad to say on this, one of the most momentous weekends in our history, the young people of Britain are probably more concerned about the oh-so-predictable antics of Geordie girl Michelle and her cronies in the Big Brother house than old soldiers on parade in France. Not that I blame them really. They haven't learned about it at school, their grandfathers are either too young to have been involved or have never spoken of it and anyway, the Second World War is something that happened a very long time ago. To other people. In fact it's only this year, this time round, that the full impact of the longest day has hit home with me. All this week I've watched the programmes detailing the actions of that amazing manoeuvre and cried at the old soldiers with their chests full of medals retracing their steps to pay tribute to the thousands who died beside them. Twenty years ago I was lucky enough to go with the Normandy veterans from this region to cover the 40th anniversary of the D-Day landings for The Journal. It was a memorable trip on every level, full of pathos and pageantry, bunting, bands and bravery. I felt caught up in the emotion, was greatly affected by the cemeteries and those acres of gravestones, yet in hindsight never really understood the personal battles faced and conquered by so many ordinary, yet extraordinary, people. Heart-rending and soul-searching though the trip was, its true impetus must somehow have eluded me. Till now. It could have something to do with the fact that we're now in a new century, the so-called brave new millennium. We have turned a corner and should therefore look forward and not back. Yet only now in 2004 does the real valour of that June day in 1944 leave a mark on my conscience. I welcome the chance to say a personal prayer of thanks for the successful outcome of the day that really did bring us freedom. I have my box of hankies at the ready. * My friend in Cumbria reports on the great efforts made by a volunteer to create a D-Day commemorative window in his Age Concern shop to mark the weekend's events. Everyone who called into the shop congratulated him on his Euro 2004 window! Back to make a stand Well, I hope you don't think I've been taking a sickie these past few weeks! Nor a holiday. Nor, God forbid, a stint behind the scenes in Hell's Kitchen. No, I had an operation from which I'm still recovering. So to all those Journal readers currently laid low with illness or something they just can't put their finger on, can I sympathise and send my very best wishes for your return to health. Just over a month after my operation, I have now progressed to CBB syndrome, which actually affects far more people than you realise. This stands for Can't Be Bothered and is at least one-step up from TATT, which stands for Tired All The Time and is a very real condition. All being well, I'm back to make a stand. I would sit down - but it hurts too much! Call that took the biscuit So what are the benefits of recuperation at home? Daytime television? The chance to read? Maybe it's being on hand to answer calls from all over the world from friendly-sounding people who know your name and want to know "How are you doing today?" Then they launch into their sales spiel about extended credit facilities, insurance offers or banking services. Honestly, I don't know how the rest of you cope
The one that took the biscuit though came from a compensation-claim company in the North-West. "Are you sure you or any member of your family hasn't had an accident lately?" the chap inquired. `Not a fall? Not even a little one?' Talk about desperate measures. ********** A thoughtful pal from Essex sent a big box of chocolates to aid my recovery (I haven't eaten them yet so I MUST be poorly). They came by courier, delivered by Business Express, in a sturdy box that gave nothing away about their delectable contents. On the address label under "special instructions" was written "Do Not Deliver to Under 18s." I have been trying to work out "why not?" ever since. ********** How refreshing to see 14-year-old Emma Watson so elegant, pretty and natural - and best of all looking her age - at the premiere of the new Harry Potter film in London this week. Yes, she was wearing a full-length gown. Yes, she was perfectly made-up. But when you think of the indecent haste so many 14-year-old girls are in to be dressed in spangly, midriff-bearing tops carrying suggestive slogans that will get them noticed by much older boys, I'd say Emma imparted a much more impressive message, and carried it off beautifully. Entertaining - but sets poor example Before you ask, no, I don't think Gordon Ramsay is sexy (I'm not a fan of pineapple haircuts) and yes, I would have walked out if he'd shouted at me like he shouted at Amanda Barrie and the annoying Edwina Currie. What isn't in doubt is that Ramsay is the country's most charismatic chef and that he's made Hell's Kitchen very entertaining television these last two weeks. But he has certainly put an end to any hope teachers may have of expecting young pupils to show respect in their classrooms. From now on, swearing of the worst kind and answering back will be de rigueur because the kids have learned it from the Master. And, on another tack entirely, am I the only person to have felt uncomfortable about all that food going in the bin during the first week of the programme? ********** The toddler son of a colleague was on his best behaviour when his mum and dad took him to a Christening the other Sunday, lapping up the happy family atmosphere and the hearty singing in the church. As the first hymn ended, his little voice could be clearly heard. "YES HE CAN" he yelled with relish. Bob the Builder would have been very proud. Books live up to the publicity You can't judge a book by its cover, they say. Well, in the last few weeks I've read two books which more than lived up to their pre-publicity. Paul Burrell has been maligned and sneered at from on-high pillar to post for his account of life in royal service. But his is simply a fascinating and loyal tale, well-told from beginning to end from which the Queen and Prince Philip emerge with great credit (though I vow here and now I will never visit Althorp again
) Second is Jordan's autobiography, riding high at number one in the best seller charts. I've criticised her plenty in the past but I take it all back having read her story. | 
