Woman's Hour

Appropriate, really don't you think? And very exciting. You see, I've listened (and enjoyed) Woman's Hour for years, despite not being a woman (at least, not the last time I looked), and since the days when it was broadcast at 2 o'clock in the afternoon.

Counting down to ten o'clock

So when someone from the aforementioned programme first tweeted, then 'phoned me I resisted the temptation to tell them I'd say anything (almost anything) to get on air and contained my excitement for just long enough for me to take in that they wanted someone to do a bit of pontificating about parent blogging. I'm good at that sort of thing.

Waiting for the green light

So, with visions of striding confidently past the commissionaire and reporting to reception at Broadcasting House (I'm here for Woman's Hour, don't ya know!) I agreed to appear on this morning's programme. As it happened, I didn't get within a hundred miles of the hallowed portals of BH (one day, maybe) and was instead installed in something resembling a rather chilly broom cupboard in Lincoln. Still, I was 'on' Woman's Hour. And with the delightful Alice Harold too.

The broom cupboard

Here's what you missed if you were otherwise engaged at ten o'clock this morning. (Or, indeed, if you were fleeing from your transistor radio in response to my increasingly hysterical tweets...) Click here to listen on BBC iPlayer.

And here's what you might have seen had you been there, which you wouldn't have been able to because the 'studio' was too small.

And anyway, it was radio so you couldn't anyway...

...Which is a good job really, in my case. 

Don't have nightmares!