I remember being involved with the Lambeth Summer Project, a police/community initiative designed to break down the tensions and the barriers between the coppers and the youngsters of Lambeth. Mr Harman, late bank manager at Streatham 266, volunteered me and all I really did was to turn up to committee meetings and agree or disagree with things.

I remember Mr Shayler, another manager of Streatham 266, and his prosthetic eye. He had had a tumour removed, but boasted that he was able to sleep at the back of a meeting at area office without being found out because his eye would still be open.

I remember seeing a woman walking through Richmond Park dragging what looked like three tyres on ropes behind her - presumably training for something or other. I was driving so was unable to stop and find out what.

I remember the first time I drove on a motorway - the M1 - in driving rain, with convoys of lorries throwing up spray so you could hardly see a thing, when the loom burnt out on my (my Mum's?) Ford Anglia. Drove the rest of the way without lights but had a jolly good few days as I remember with Richard Jackson and others (Gareth Davies?) at Nottingham University. Rod Stewart was singing Maggie May on Top Of The Pops - with John Peel on mandolin. Hated motorways from then on until one of my Cortinas had wing mirrors, then I was OK. Although the smell of burning wiring still sends shivers...

I remember my Dad taking me back along the A3 after I had written off Mum's Austin A40 and showing me the lane-closing signs that said I was running out of road.

I remember us making ice cream out of snow - basically by adding jam.

I remember my Dad building a box for a blackbird with a broken wing until it was well enough to fly away.

I remember when we went to see Ted Hughes give a poetry reading - I think it was at Hammersmith Riverside Studios - and we were both equally impressed by his sheer presence, much the same as, more recently, Jacques Loussier.

I remember when my Dad was the only person I knew that seemed able to mend things, or even make things from scratch: a television, an electronic keyboard, a back gate for Pembury, a coffin for Issey.

I remember taking my Dad for baked camembert and red wine at Cafe Rouge when he had threatened to discharge himself from Kingston Hospital.

I remember when I said I was going to have to get married - my Dad (and Mum) decorated the house and painted the garage so we could have our wedding reception at home.

I remember we were on our way home from remixing the King Lear tapes (at last!) and we stopped off for a drink in Weston Green and I told my Dad that I was leaving Maxine and he said, "I can see a lot of pain coming."

I remember when - ahead of his time - my Dad took a job with a boat builder on the Thames at Richmond rather than become part of a big corporation.

I remember how my Dad has never to my knowledge cooked anything more complicated than a poached egg on toast - with apricot jam... Happy Father's Day, Dad!