I remember how amazed I was to see Eliot walking towards me the other week. It couldn't be him. He's in Austin, Texas. Only he wasn't.

I remember thinking what a nice girl Sue Ambrose was. I have a vague feeling she went out with Ross Hutchinson for a while. Blonde hair. Of the Heather and Hattie crowd. Not sure why it's always stuck in my mind but I can still see her, sitting on the grass outside the back entrance to Nonsuch.

I remember Elton John playing the swimming baths at Epsom. Only we didn't bother to queue for long as Linda wasn't feeling well. I am being tactful here, because I remember exactly why she didn't want to queue any longer, but I'll keep that to myself.

I remember a bloke at school who put a Jaguar engine in a Mini - I think he used to go drag racing - and I think his surname was Bishop.

I remember my Dad making a box for a blackbird to live in until its wing was healed.

I remember Jill Smith, an early Kingston OU colleague. Probably burned into my brain because she once told me how fantastic it felt to swim naked in the sea. She was right.

I remember Chris Trevor-Wilson and his yellow and red cards. We were sitting outside the Cricketers in Richmond last night when the alarm of a car parked over the road started going off intermittently, with someone sitting inside it. It got to about the 10th time and Chris stood up and gave it the old red card treatment - at which point it gingerly drove off. He's still got it!

I remember driving Eliot to the airport this morning.