Radio and television

There's phrase that ladies of a certain age use a lot: it's my hormones. This morning, muttering to myself about something, I said, 'It's my cobwebs.' Cobwebs?!!! Now that must be down to my hormones. Or insanity.

I heard part of a programme on Radio 4 yesterday about insanity and the effect of the moon. It used to be thought that lunatics were affected by a full moon. Over the years loads of studies have been done, fairly inconclusively, although there were a couple of interesting theories mentioned.

a) Epileptics were treated as lunatics and kept in asylums that tended to be built away from the rest of humanity. Without electricity, nights in gloomy asylums would have been very dark so nights with a full moon would have been exceptionally bright. Epileptics can be affected by light so it's possible that this did cause fits.
b) The moon has an effect on tides. The human body is largely comprised of water, thus it's possible that the increased pull of the full moon had something to do with it.

The second one is less likely admittedly. But I think, although I only heard part of the report, that the most recent and extensive research showed that 34% of 'mad moments' happened when the moon was at its fullest. So not conclusive but a hint that it might be involved.

But I only heard this in bits. I bet you love it when I tell you about things I heard on the radio as I only ever get half the story.

But I did get the full story in The Archers. They're doing their bit of pro-turkey propaganda. It is safe to eat turkey at Christmas in spite of bird flu. Every year, Eddie Grundy, the struggling rapscallion of the show, raises turkeys and relies on their sale for a large part of his income. (Along with the sale of stolen holly and mistletoe.) (And poached rabbit.) This year his orders are at a much lower level than is normal for this time. He fears it could be a hard Christmas for the family. Go and order your turkey now! Rural livelihoods are in danger!

And I haven't mentioned Cranford. BBC's adaptation of Mrs Gaskell's novel began on Sunday evening. I haven't read the book and suspect that it would be rather too detailed for my taste - which is unfair and I should check it out properly - but judging by the first episode, this drama is going to be wonderful. Full of the best of British actors, it was just fantastic, detailing the nuances of pernickety etiquette-led lives of small town women with nothing to do. But women who will turn round and defy etiquette in favour of compassion. Brilliant.

Just to finish off I'll mention Grey's Anatomy. Husband bought the second series on DVD for my birthday and I settled down last night with George to watch one episode: it became two. Wonderful show again. I am the least hospital-drama-inclined person you could hope to meet, susceptible as I am to fainting at the sight of - or thought - of blood, and to hypochondria, but some of the incidents are so far-fetched as to be beyond even my imagination.

Last night there had been a train crash and two people were brought in held together by a steel pole that had gone right through both their middles. They sat face to face, skewered together, on the stretcher. It looked funny, especially as they were both joking, numbed by shock and a pole through the spine, but it had a tremendously moving ending. And then there was the pregnant man ... It's not a comedy but it has a lot of West Wing about its style, pace, humour and drama. Not to mention dishy doctors.