The Jew detector

So I read today that scientists have discovered that there are five tell-tale physical attributes that might help us all to spot a Paedophile. We're told that Paedophiles are shorter than average, have high palates, physical abnormalities including misshapen ears and lower than average IQs. We're told they're also likely to be left-handed. Basically, the bloke I saw in the gym this afternoon is definitely a Paedophile!

To me this is perhaps THE most worrying article I have ever read on the subject; an indication that we are living in an age of hysteria which is no different from the era of Salem Witchcraft trials.

Max Frisch's seminal play, Andorra, which is set in a fictional European country during the Second World War includes a character, the Jew detector, who maintains he can tell a Jewish person just by looking at his feet and to me, the recent research is as ludicrous... And as dangerous... As this.

Frankly, if you haven't read Andorra, there's probably never been a better to time read it.

I met my dear friend Lli today, who's slowly emerging from a hideous ME episode. It's a terrible, debilitating, frightening condition and my heart goes out to anyone who has it. My Dad had ME in the 1980s when it was considered a crack-pot illness which no one could do anything about. I'm not sure there have been great leaps forward in the understanding of the condition since then but Lli tells me things have improved, with clinics opening up specifically to treat the sufferers.

It was lovely to see her again, and she looked incredibly well. We sat in the window of "our" cafe in Muswell Hill, at the table we always sit at. It's such a treat to sit there, by the enormous window, watching the eccentrics, the Jewish housewives, the school children, the fabulous old ladies and the glorious freaks of the world passing by.

We had two pots of tea and then strolled along the Broadway, stopping and sitting on a little wall by the church which is now a pub.

Llio dropped me off at the Woodman Pub at the bottom of Muswell Hill Road, and I sent her off down Wood Lane, which snakes through the middle of Queen's Wood in a most confusingly un-London-like manner. The road is like some kind of Devonian Lane. I hope Llio managed to find herself back to civilisation!

There's not a lot else to say other than that I made Yorkshire puddings today and that they were so delicious I had them for both lunch and tea!