The Moatman Interviews -S3- No.3 'Culinary delights' featuring @Dirty_Sid

*The camera opens on the 'This Morning' studio, which looks utterly deserted until the camera pans right towards the cookery section of the studio, where it looks like the hairy bikers are in residence. However on closer inspection the two hairy bearded gents stood in the cookery section look far more rugged, and its now we can see it's none other than Boff Moatman and Lord Pyssemolde

Hello dear hearts! Today we're broadcasting from a very special venue, and I can tell you we had to pull some very well connected strings to get in here (the Wombles still have some Blue Peter connections at the Beeb). We also had to promise to leave the place as we found it and be out before 2pm. Anyway I digress, I'm here with a very aromatic guest for a special one off cookery edition of the Moatman Interviews, featuring Lord Pyssemolde himself, or as he's known to his friends Dirty Sid.

Now Sid, I believe we're going to show our audience how to cook a delightful two course meal featuring:

i An Offal Kedgeree, with Stinking Bishop and Ass Reaper Sauce, followed by

ii A viciously laxative Prawn Phaal, with Psycho Juice and tripe slices.

So if we refer to your carrier bag perhaps we can begin, now I know you take your cookery seriously, I wanted to ask firstly what kind of preparations do you take before cooking a meal?

Indeed there is I'm very much of the Floydian School, I find a pint of absinthe by far the best medium for the chef. As for the ingredients, any meat, fish or offal must be as rancorous as possible, and marinated in Psycho Pickle juice for a minimum of 36 hours in an overly warm room.

Trust me dear viewers, the ingredients today are particularly aromatic, which explains why the Wombles are no where to be seen, with their keen sense of smell, the aromatic juices in Sid's Kedgeree would blow their heads off. I see, and we're beginning with offal kedgeree, I wanted to ask do you source your ingredients locally? and what's your opinion of the big supermarkets?

As Lord of The Manor, we have a Delicatessen on the estate, selling all manner of upmarket products - but the damned philistines wont stock my tripe and chilli sausages, or Mushy Sprouts. I usually send Aunt Sebag down to pick up our weekly order, the staff always seem so fearful of entering Pyssemolde Abbey themselves, and the manager is very much opposed to my furtive naturism.... Hehehe

Supermarkets are the bane of my life. Quite why they all object to a Peer of The Realm fondling their products, whilst relieving a little trapped flatulence, is beyond me. Of course, having a psychotically violent Aunt in tow is something of a handicap, and the same could be said of Uncle Madeline's suffrage protests - chaining himself to a train of Waitrose trolleys didn't win any friends.... Hehehe

Indeed, and you're not a fan of TV dinners I understand, what is it exactly about home prepared cooking that makes it taste so much better than processed foods?

Other than the amazing products of Dr Burnorium - he of the marvellously volatile Psycho Products, I've yet to find any processed foods which move me sufficiently about the antipodes, or cause others to sprint so furiously in the opposite direction. I find chemicals no substitute for nature. No one needs damned preservatives, we British fought the crusades, and founded an Empire, on rancorous meats and semi-permanent diarrhoea. Its what Vindaloos and Phaal are made for.... Hehehe

Indeed, and are there are nutrition tips you can give our readers to ensure they maintain a healthy balanced diet?

Indeed I can, its absolutely vital to keep the bowels moving. Not just once a day, but a thunderous, buttock rippling, trouser tearing, rapture that runs (quite literally) from one mealtime to the next. I'm also a fervent advocate of pickles, whelks and eels as snacks between one's 7 meals a day, and a night should always be rounded off with a bar of Ex Lax, the insertion of a suppository, and a sleeping draft.... The chance effect always makes for interesting sleep patterns, and novel wall decorations..... Many a morning I've awoken to find my underpants welded to the tapestries..... Hehehe

I see, this offal is quite squidgy Sid, do you have any special techniques to get the right consistency before you add the Ass Reaper Sauce.

Indeed, its squidginess is in direct proportion to its grade of rancidity.... Hehehe.
For this reason, I always ensure I have a stock of marinating meat, prawns and offal. I have a quantity of vintage offal which Great Uncle Julius began preparing in 1966, its now a particularly heady vintage, most reminiscent of old Julius himself.... and he's been dead since 1976. We had him stuffed and mounted in the West Wing, well it was west until Aunt Sebag reoriented the Abbey, whilst I was in America last autumn. Its most disconcerting, arriving home to find ones West Wing is now facing South, whilst the northern (sinister) facade looks east toward Boston.... And the south facade has disappeared entirely..... Hehehe

Indeed, if you're following along at home you'll notice that we're preparing today's dishes without the use of a conventional oven. Mainly because they won't let us use the ovens here, but in this case Sid has his own method for heating the food. Sid, can you tell us a little bit more about how we are going to be cooking today's dishes without the use of a standard oven?

Certainly. Thanks to the damned Fire Brigade, and that HSE wallah over there (shakes fists, and throws a whole Stinking Bishop at a hi-viz clad, nervous looking, council official), we will be using a pair of my pre-worn leather jeans. They still retain much of last night's dinner.... it makes a remarkable Dutch oven, and adds a distinct piquancy to ones dinner.... Hehehe

...and of cause this dish is quite spicy, do you have any special tips for how are readers can prepare for the day after effects?

Well, I'm a firm advocate of free defecation, much like William Blake (though I rarely sit in trees expelling anything on passers by) But, doorsteps, letterboxes, chimneys, white BMWs. WI members, Jehovah's Witnesses.... all are fair game. Of course, if you're one of these damned soft city types, who feels compelled to use a bathroom, I'd advise putting a roll of Andrex in the chiller, and packing the privy seat with ice..... Hehehe

Now, I note that your second dish includes tripe. I know a lot of our readers will be less familiar with this meat product, but it's a focus of many of your dishes. What do you think it is that makes tripe so versatile?

That's a very good question. Lancashire Calamari has oft suffered from a bad press, mostly due to its odd texture and the distinctive bouquet. But the people of Tripe UK, and their rediscovery of the works of Albert Spatchcock (the great, if somewhat eccentric and confrontational, northern film maker. Some critics called him deranged *shakes fists violently, and breaks wind* the damned philistines), are doing a splendid job to redress this injustice.

Tripe is a wondrous substance in taste, texture and aromatics. And quite usefully, even when fresh from animal gives off a distinctively rancid aroma. I can't stress its versatility strongly enough, and of course if one serves a surfeit of honeycomb tripe, the leftovers can be used to mop up the excess spillages and vomit that true Pyssemoldean Cuisine generates.... Hehehe

Now if you get the camera in close you'll be able to see the prawns in the phaal are actually still moving. Sid, is there any particular reason that you like to use live prawns in your phaal? does it give it an extra kick?

Indeed so.... And prawns are really quite vile creatures, they'll hoover up anything. Their intestines are packed with all manner of interesting products that add to a curry's spiciness and texture. Its also the case that Aunt Sebag, who has remarkable hearing for a 70 yr old heavy metal loving bike, likes to hear them scream, and writhe agonisingly, as the intense heat and chilli oils overcome them

...I do also note that your cookery style is very Jackie Chan, where did you learn to cook? and who are your cooking heroes?

Well, Vlad the Impaler has always been a hero of mine. But its Keith Floyd and Viv Stanshall who were my greatest inspirations. Whilst Floyd's talents are widely lauded, its a little known fact that Stanshall was as much of a gourmet as he was insane. His mixed bean salads had to be expelled, through an alpine horn, to be believed. I learned to cook whilst serving as an explosives expert in HM Forces... Hehehe

It still has the laxative qualities of an SS officer with a reel of piano wire though, but it takes around 20 minutes after consumption for the intensity to fully mature..... Hehehe

Perfect, and if you just leave that to stand for about thirty minutes or so the heat should have gone down enough that it won't melt your face off. This prawn phaal is actually one of Sid's signature dishes, so I wanted to ask have you prepared this one for anyone famous?

I have indeed, we Pyssemoldes are noted for our lavish dinner parties. I once cooked Prawn Phaal for George Melly, this was just prior to when he began to bombard readers of his newspaper columns with notes on his uncontrollable bowel movements. This was before he died, obviously.... Hehehe

Well that explains the news reports at the time. Now obviously we are quite pressed for time today so have just focussed on a starter and main, but can you recommend any deserts to complement these dishes?

Certainly, Dragon Fruit with figs, prunes, garlic ice cream and soured mushy sprouts is a great favourite. The sweaty stench of Dragon Fruit provides the ideal atmosphere for the figs and prunes to properly take effect..... Hehehe

Well that sounds quite disgusting, I'm sure our guests will love it. So there you have it dear readers, a charming little dish for all the family. Finally, and I'm sure this one we'll all be interested in, are you planning to bring out a cook book so we can all enjoy these delightful dishes for ourselves?

I am indeed I was violently disappointed *shakes fists and riverdances furiously* with that damned literary lie Cooking With Poo, which most certainly fails to live up to its description. So I decided I should redress the balance and produce Pyssemoldes Big Brown Book - I'm hoping to publish it, in scratch'n' sniff format, just in time for the Christmas tripe rush.... Hehehe

...and with that our interview is done, and the meal is ready for it's taste test, as Sid has cooked it and I've already smelt it, we'll leave it to our guest taster Gino from Sheffield to give it a mouthful. Fortunately he's already had a pint of absinthe and is steaming drunk, he has already stripped to his kecks, so should be able to feel it's effects at a safely drunk state... toodle pips viewers.





 

The Moatman Interviews -S3- No.2 'Badgered' featuring @Charliebadger99

*The camera opens on a crowded grotto, stuffed full of musical instruments, interesting looking hats and badger related paraphenalia. The camera pans slowly over a shelf stuffed full of snow globes, board games from the 70s and a jar of penny sweets before reaching a small doorway at the back of the grotto, and then through into a small backroom, where today's guest is sat on a wooden chair with a mug of coffee in one hand and a small guitar balanced in his lap*

Hello friends! it's me Boff Moatman! I must admit I am filled with trepidation today, the last time I was in someones grotto I got mistaken for a festive deity and spent the entire afternoon having people shoving lists of goods under my nose for their approval. However today's guest has taken much better care of me and I must compliment him on the cheese toast sarnies we had earlier. So, lets begin....

Our guest today is the son of a greengrocer and part-time taxidermist, He grew up in O'Malleys famous 'stuff you and stuff your pets' emporium surrounded by dead parrots and men in brown coats. The young Master O'Malley was enthralled to see customer after customer come back to the shop to argue over the critical status of said parrotts at the time of purchase. However as he grew older he became bored with the grocer-taxidermy game and realising that his future was predestined to a life of shoving sand into cat's bottoms he joined a renegade band of badger's and escaped to the urban underground to craft sad ballads about his formative days, ladies and gentlemen I give to you Charlie Badger!

Charlie it's lovely to be here in your grotto today, and we have a lot of ground to cover, so I wanted to begin by asking what was it like growing up in a Grocery/pet-shop/taxidermist?

Hello Boff and welcome to my Grotto. My childhood was confusing. I was bought up in a Veterinary Surgery, since my Dad, strangely enough, was a Vet, but told me it was actually a Taxidermy shop and that's why all the people were coming in with their poorly pets. I realised something was afoot when my family dog Jessica was bought to the surgery and all I got back was a trip to Chessington Zoo and her dog lead. I felt betrayed, but the rides were good.

That's such a sad tale, I remember when the Wombles went to Chessington, to be fair they're all scared of the big rides and much prefer the tea-cups, except Bungo who thinks he's a hard man and likes to show off. I still have the photos of him being sick on the Vampire. I had it framed, it's magical. Anyway, what was it like being on the run with a bunch of badgers? Did you get into any trouble?

We were always in trouble, stealing peanut butter from Londis and Spar, Nipping into 'Our Price' and scratching Johnny Mathis records so the line 'when a child is born' would repeat until the buyer would be sent mad. The badgers and I made it onto a train Devon bound and found our way to Widdecombe on the Moor where we set up the sett and lost ourselves in the thrills and spills of underground life.

Boff knows all about underground dwelling and highly recommends it, although ventilation is important, particularly if you share a room with a flatulent housemate....and is it true that Hannibal Smith from the A-Team tried to recruit you into some kind of badger franchise co-op thing?

Yeah..it was quite tough at first, but as you say, Hannibal did manage to track us down and suggest a plan. As his cigar smoke wafted around the sett, he asked whether we would consider setting up a badger team, a B team, if you will, on the off chance they had forgotten to give Mr.T his sedative and air travel was out of the question. We of course agreed, for a price, and the promise that a piano and all asorted musical instruments would be delivered to our home.

This partly explains the musical instruments that deck the walls of the grotto, including an ocarina of time perched upon Charlie's mantelpiece. I see, and of cause a little known fact is that badger's are very musical, was it the badgers that got you interested in music? and what were your early musical influences?

Well that was it. I was shocked. My badger companions had never let on to me that they were indeed so musical. I knew squirrels loved the pan-pipes and otters were nifty on the old flute, but badgers?
Our 1st song was 'Only Love' by Nana Mouskouri which they insisted on playing in the key of B. In fact, every song they played was in the key of B. As a piano player, B is not one of the favourite keys, but never the less, there we were, blasting out Nolan Sisters' medleys and Jethro Tull Folk songs for all the Dartmoor Ponies to enjoy.

As for my influences, well, it's always hard to say. I was brought up on Argentine Tango, Irish, classical, and Jeff Wayne's War of the Worlds, and of course anyone who played piano. Billy Joel, Elton John, Richard Clayderman, Les Dawson etc. But having 3 elder sisters meant everything Pop, was also forced into my ears.

*Ahhh the Bay City Rollers* you poor poor man... But indeed you're a multi-instrumentalist yourself, what was the first instrument you learned to play? and was it difficult to teach yourself?

The Piano was my first, I can't remember a time when I didn't play it. I did have lessons for a while aged 7 or 8, but the teacher turned out to be a raving alcoholic who would swear down to his wife during the lesson. I quite enjoyed it, but when I told my Mum, she took me away from him. The next teacher was no better. He spent the time playing me Pink Floyd and Soft Machine albums while combing the tassels around the edge of his rug.

I still can't read music, it's like mini-graffiti to me. I would watch someone play, then try to copy it but soon learnt to play whatever I had just heard on the radio or Stereo, but then at the age of 13/14, my sister gave me the Beatles Red album 1962-66, and my life changed forever

Boff is also a big fan of the Beatles as it goes, Yes, dear friends I love those ones where Ringo sings about Thomas the Tank Engine, and a big yellow submarine.... No, I'm joshing of cause, Infact for the last 40 years I've styled myself on John Lennon from his beardy, rose tinted glasses. Insider exclusive there for you, anyway, back on with the interview, what about the women folk? Are they attracted by your rugged charms and poetic soul? or is it more the cute badger thing that lures them?

Playing an instrument is very very interesting. When it comes to Women and girls, I was always shy and couldn't approach them,which could lead to one feeling ignored or just boring BUT, when I started the playing piano in front of them, my my, how things would change. and when I started writing songs for friends and girls I knew, well, let's just say, strings were plucked and ivories tingled.

It does of course matter WHAT you play, but since I have a Musical memory which includes, and I'm not boasting, thousands of songs, I could feel my way into their ears. As for badger songs, out of the 250 or so songs I've now written, only 4 or 5 are badger related, but nearly all, dedicated to.

That's fascinating, the Wombles themselves are also quite musical, but I've never seen any women folk around the Womble abode, apart from Madam Cholet, and frankly with her cockney twang is quite off putting. She's like Danny Dyer on helium when she gets going, the whole French thing is a complete lie to make her look sophisticated on the telly. Anyway, what important life lessons and worldly experiences have you learned from your time with the badgers?

My time with the badgers has led me to believe there is indeed much evil in this world when it comes to animal cruelty and abuse. Many badgers would return with tales of woe and such stomach sickening stories, I often despair.

It has also been confirmed to me that humans are indeed split into 'Owls and Larks'. I'm a night time person, always have been. 10pm has always seemed early to me, even as a child, and like the Owls, badgers and bats, I come awake after the blasted Sun has gone down. I've also learned, people like to blame. When their chicken fence is old and decrepit, they blame Foxes. When their cows are sickly, they blame badgers. When the park is full of litter, they blame the Womble strike.

Ah yes, the fateful Womble strike of 1997, the wombles really didn't like Tony Blair, and I would also like to ask you some hat related questions, you do have quite a fine array here in your grotto, do you have a favourite hat? and are there any hats you like to save for special occasions?

Oohh...let me see... My favourite hat has to be the hat I'm current working on...Sorry..Wearing. As for special occasions, I believe every moment IS a special occasion, so No, I don't have one set aside

I see and is it true that you learned your hat tossing skills from taking out rogue hecklers during gigs?

ahh Yes...but I did learn my skills from the badgers. They would often juggle hedgehogs during moonlight parties. The hedgehogs would love it though, it was a bit of a treat for them.
As for the gigs, I would indeed take aim at any heckler that would constantly shout out for ACDC songs, while I was playing the piano.

ACDC and the piano don't really mix. I did find that a decently creased Flat Brim Stetson Sovereign Quality Pinch Crown Fur Felt Fedora Hat would fly through the air and not variate from the target.
My 1st knockout was at the 'BoatRace' venue in Cambridge in 1999. A chap who chanted "Neil Diamond" at me for the first half, suddenly woke up in Adambrookes Hospital.

Hahahaha serves him right! ...and what does the future hold for Charlie Badger? Are you planning any major art heists cunningly staged around a big musical concert in Hyde Park?

I haven't any plans for Hyde Park as yet, but I'm still on the run from the Heist in Paris. While the band were playing a Instrumental section and drum solo, I slid out the back, into the Louvre and ran off with The Mona Lisa' and replaced it with the poster of the Tennis girl with the itchy buttock. A far more interesting picture I believe, and then of course there's the British Museum. While performing on the steps outside, I nipped in, stole the Elgin Marbles and replaced them with an assortment of 1970's Ronco Teasmaids. The public actually preferred them

...and who wouldn't! 

I'd like to end by asking you one final question, If you had the opportunity to meet one of your musical heroes or badgers for that matter, which one and what would you say to them if you met them?

Well thank you Boff, glad you liked the cheese toastie and to answer your last question, I suppose I would like to meet, and play with Neil Hannon from the 'Divine Comedy', and Ben Folds from 'The America' 2 songwriters who are a lot like me and my music. Jeff Lynne and Roger Waters I could happily chat with too. Freddie Mercury and Thom Yorke I would happily eat tea and crumpets with
But if I met the chaps from ABBA, I would simply say " You crafty old foxes you', and Beethoven " Pardon? " just to confuse the old Goat. So it leaves me just to say, thank you once again Boff and don't hit your head on your way out.

Some of my music can be found on Youtube in the 'Charlie O'Malley compilation',

Well dear friends, what a fascinating afternoon I've had, I shall bid you a fond farewell now until next time while I see if I can persuade Charlie to play his rendition of 'Do you really want to hurt me' on that ocarina of his.

The Moatman Interviews -S3- No.1 'Artistic intentions' featuring @PaperHegemony

*The camera opens on a beautiful night-time garden lit up by chinese laterns painted red and gold, the mellow sounds of 80s new romantic music waft through the air as Spandau Ballet belt out 'True' somewhere far away, and then the camera pans up the garden, clothing strewn here and there until we reach a large sized hot tub, bubbling away, steam rising up, as two people gentle splash about in the water, one who looks like a beardy, pruned version of Bruce Forsyth, which must be Boff, and the other, a blonde elfin character who must be today's guest*

*Boff raises a glass of Barolo* Hello my dear sweethearts and welcome to a brand new series of the Moatman Interviews, and what better way to kick us off then getting nicely smashed on Barolo while marinating in a hot tub with my first rather attractive guest. It's none of that rush rush rush you city types get up to you know.

Now, how do I describe tonight's guest? A diminutive blonde bombshell who's handy with a paint brush, an uber mummy with her own jam making facilities, or classy about town lady who's really quite posh actually. Yes, tonights rather bubbly (it's the hot tub you know) guest is none other than Willow, the PaperHegemony herself,

*Willow raises a glass of Barolo and takes a drag on her Morroccan cigarette* Hello Boff, you do look a bit warm, so then what do you want to know?

*Boff fans himself*, mmmm the water is quite inclement, I can't tell if it's the wine or the night air, but I am rather warm. Well it's a pleasure to share a bubbly bath with you. I guess to begin with for those of my readers who are perhaps less familar with you we could start with a getting to know you question. If you had to describe yourself for the purposes of a job interview in one short paragraph how would you describe yourself and your key expertise?

I haven’t had a job interview for over 10 years, Boff, so anything I say will sound a lot like I was coached at the job centre. I am very adaptive, stoic and competent - people tell me they can’t believe how calm I am.

 Creative, philosophical and nurturing - I love people watching and making observations about society. I trained as a primary school teacher but hated the restrictive nature of the national curriculum, so hoped to retrain as a social worker. Then I had more children.
 

Over the last few years, I have had to learn a huge number of practical specialised nursing skills but more than anything, I love to use my artistic skills to express myself.

Well, that all sounds in order you're hired! I could use a bit of private nursing myself, ahem... So... anyway, I fear too much longer of the hot tub and I'll prune up completely, so lets press on. We'll come to motherhood and children a little later on, but I'd like to ask you some questions first about your formative questions and your love of art. What kind of teenager were you? are there any good stories you can remember about finding your way in the world? Boys, booze and importantly art!

I came from a broken home, had many step parents, all of whom were liberal and many were broken souls. I was a rather lost and lonely young teen who got caught up with a bad crowd and found myself in trouble and expelled from Grammar school when I was 14. This was both good and bad; it knocked my confidence completely and I was sent off to catholic boarding school (which was very strange, considering how irreligious we were) and I found a certain security there which allowed me to pass exams and move through the usual stages of teen behaviour. Even at school I was a misfit; I was listening to Suede, Portishead and Ben Folds Five by the age of 13 - my Papa is a blues guitar playing geologist - and who read National Geographic to me for bedtime stories, let me fall asleep next to his speakers blaring Hendrix & Fleetwood Mac.

I lost my virginity in the shade of the chapel to a 6th former. I was 15 and frankly unimpressed. When I went to live with my Pa after boarding school, I went to a local comprehensive to do A levels. I had a job at a local business  (a good story in itself!) where I met my first real boyfriend. He was 7 years older and I learned a lot from him. Or rather, he let me lead the way while we learned together - I realised I loved sex! I didn’t really drink until 6th form. There were a few afternoons by the cricket pavilion at boarding school, when one of us would have brought in some contraband vodka (easily smuggled as water) back from weekend leave, we snorted vodka. 
 

Art is a funny one. Although it was generally acknowledged by family and by teachers that I had a talent for art, it was never something that compelled me. I enjoyed GCSE art and when transferred to boarding school, my teacher was so enthusiastic about it, he wanted me to try A level immediately and simply bypass GCSE. I wasn’t allowed and as a result I lost interest. I stopped trying to complete the tasks and that was that. I have always drawn for fun but i didn’t really start to use it for myself until i was much older. I was too busy getting drunk, stoned and having sex. Being a teenager.

You snorted vodka at the Cricket Pavilion? I hope you were a member of the cricket club then :D and it's clear you drew a lot of inspiration from music as a teen, so I wanted to ask were there any particular musical /literary scene or artist that helped inspire your creative side when you were younger?

As I mentioned before, my father was a huge influence. He has always been self employed and devoted to his guitar playing. He was always in a band and they used to rehearse in a specially insulated-with-mattresses and carpet tiles room directly below my bedroom. I am amazed that I don’t have hearing problems. He used to take me to see live musicians often and i still get really high from a screaming guitar.

He was generous with my musical development; he took me to see Take That and Blur, Pulp and so on, to encourage my enjoyment. He has a great vinyl collection and I had free rein to that throughout childhood.
 

I listened to anything from Stevie Wonder to The Cardigans. I loved Terrorvision and Carole King.

Literature was not so much an influence. I was a great English student - I have a geeky passion for language and more specifically, etymology, the history of language generally and language acquisition. My favourite thing about books was reading Edgar Allen Poe out loud to one of my best friends, Yann, and he would read Saki to me. Jeeves and Wooster, Henry James, Brontë sisters, Darling buds of May - these are things I remember reading, Oh and Gary Larson cartoons.

Okay, and now moving on to your current creative streak, your art work also has quite a strong social commentary, many of your cartoons have a deeper personal or social meaning. I wanted to ask what the creative process is like for you? and are there any key themes of messages you like to incorporate?

There are three aspects to art for me. There is the decorative, pretty art that people enjoy  - the colourful landscapes and charming portraits. These are about my style and skill with a paintbrush and box but have little figurative meaning. My audience seem to like these a lot and I hope that I can build this to make a living.

There are the more intense interpretative paintings which often have deep spiritual meaning for me and I am becoming more confident about people finding them ugly, or provocative. These serve a purpose of provoking feeling and thought; if I can somehow convey what is inside my head, an interpretation of an experience, via canvas and acrylic, into someone else’s brain and stimulate the same feelings and thoughts, then I have achieved something tremendous. I enjoy hearing other peoples reactions and responses because sometimes I learn something about myself. 
 

The cartoons and drawings are social observations. Someone who became very close to me recently made the suggestion that I started cartooning and they are evolving rapidly. For some reason that I don’t know about (which hurts me terribly) this person has withdrawn from me now but I am extremely grateful for the encouragement that was given. There is such mileage; I am considering some sort of graphic novel to illustrate the children’s heart transplant process and surrounding issues, as this easily accessible format will enable people to understand it in a facile way.

Thank you Willow that's beautiful. Now I'd like to move on to ask you some questions about motherhood, your the mum to four beautiful children, and have been through a tough time with your son's illness and heart transplant which we'll come to, but first perhaps some lighter questions, if you had to describe the main difference to your pre and post children life, other than having 4 small people running around, what would that difference be? and have you caught yourself using any of the sayings your parents used to you as a child?

I was 19 when I had my first child, Boff. I was only just past childhood but it was a brilliant experience that stopped me from going crazy. He has been the easiest child and is becoming a fine young man. I went through Uni as a single mum when he was 9 months old. I have never really known life as an adult, without being a mum. He was 6 when I started a family in earnest and so I already had a good handle on what to do! 

I miss sleep, I miss privacy, I miss spontaneity. There is no denying that I have grown up with my kids and the maturation process has been rapid in the last 6 years, dealing with life changing circumstances. I do often hear my mother falling from my face and it makes me want to cry. I swear under my breath a lot. 

To be honest I think we all swear we'll never say the things our parents did to make us behave as kids, and then when our time comes we blummin well say the same! It certainly makes you respect your own parents a lot more. Now then having one small person is a lot of work but four must be quite a challenge, do you have any amusing stories or out of the mouths of babes stories? the kind of stood in the kitchen at 4am making angel delight and dropping the bowl etc

You know I often tweet the little silly things my kids say and do but some of my favourites have been the two following events;  My youngest son was then close to 3 years old and playing in the lounge with his siblings while i was preparing a meal in kitchen next door. I suddenly caught the ripe aroma of shit on the air and called out a standard, ‘son, have you done a poo?’

He replied ‘YE-ES’ and appeared in the doorway, devoid of nappy but brown with smears like camouflage paint. Throwing down tea towel, with narrowed eyes, I dashed through to the lounge, expecting to find skid marks all over. It smelled BAD. ‘where have you put your nappy?’ I demanded. ‘Its ok mommy, i wasn’t wearing a nappy, but i picked the poo up.’ I looked around in desperation, ‘yes darling, ok.. where is it?’  ‘Its on the table, mummy.’ 

And my daughter recently was in a terrible mood. She is 8. I always try to talk through any anger with the kids; they have had a huge amount of distressing life events to cope with in last few years and I have a strong awareness of how this could affect their mental health. She was moaning away about some of her peers picking on her, how she hated herself and how she wished we could home educate again. This tugs on my heart strings, as I wish we could too, but I have to be realistic about my own energy and abilities. I can’t manage it any more. So i listened to her and tried to work out how to tackle her distress. In the end, i simply asked, ‘how do you see things being better?’

this provoked EXTREME RAGE (clearly the wrong response) and she screamed at me 

‘I DONT KNOW! I CANT SEE INTO THE PAST, OR WHATEVER IT’S CALLED!’

How I am supposed to take them seriously...

To be fair when I first moved in with the Wombles, Bungo did something similar. Not in an incontinent small child way, more in a marking his territory way. Suffice to say we only use the big gravy boat for very special occaisons now, and only after it's been bleached for 48 hours first. so anyway, moving swiftly on....and of cause you have your own jam making facilities! I wanted to ask are you good at home crafts and cookery? and do you try and avoid the major supermarket stock items?

Haha, jam making facilities comprise of a large pan, a hob and the know how. My childhood home was a small holding; we had goats and chickens and I was taught very early on how to kill a bird, wring its neck, cut it to drain blood, pluck and gut. i milked goats, hid in haylofts with pigeons, rode bareback and played in the mud in my bare feet. i spent a lot of time in trees and dykes. Very lucky to have such freedom, I wish i could provide it for my children as it is a rapidly lost privilege. We grew our own vegetables, laid our own fires and didn’t watch television.

I can make clothes on a sewing machine - i have made my own dresses and things for the children. For a little while I ran a wee business called Eliza SewLittle.
 

I think very much about nutrition, i know how much health depends on a sensible diet. Especially mental health. I am not a slender woman, nobody could deny i love cake but I have kilner jars full of lentils and brown rice and organic dried fruit.. yes. I am that woman.

Now my darling I would like to ask you some questions about your son, who I hope is well today, I can only imagine the things you have been through on his road to recovery. It's an inherent human trait, particularly maternal, to want to protect your children, there must have been numerous times in-and-out of hospital where you felt helpless and at the mercy of the fates, was there any particular thing or emtion that helped you find the courage to keep going?

I have come to understand that illness and disability can affect our lives at any point. My son was healthy when he was born and his entire life has been destroyed by a virus. When I say ‘destroyed’, the meaning is less apocalyptic now than it used to be. I never thought ‘why us?’ because, ‘why the hell NOT us?’. We are not more special as another family to somehow avoid the devastation that it has brought. I have a greater calmness with the universe and comprehension of the meaning of being alive now than I ever used to. I practice meditation and self discipline. Nothing really removes the huge sense of inner desolation that has manifested since I have been so close to Death, waved my fist at her across my son’s hospital bed.

I am fiercely alive. I feel that it is the most wondrous, magical phenomena to be alive and that joy fuels my strength. Since my son’s transplant and subsequent resurrection, I am overwhelmed by gratitude. 

...and the day the doctor's told you that they had a donor heart available, I dare say you can remember that day vividly, but can you describe that to us?

It is a vivid memory and an epic story. The day was as depressing and bleak as many before. We had been in hospital for around 200 days and his health was declining rapidly. I could see that his spirit was fading. I was seeing my precious 5 year old son dying in front of me, each day. My head was full of fear and impatient desperation. Why had we waited SO LONG? 16 months on the waiting list. That morning, during the Dr’s ward round, I demanded answers, ‘why was he not more urgent?’, ‘why has his wait exceeded the average?’ and the Dr sat down gently and kindly told me what I already knew. There is no way of knowing. How can you predict someone else’s death? He told me to take some time out. 

I had arranged for a play specialist to sit with my son in his cubicle for company for a few hours and I took myself off to the British Museum. I was listening to Phosphorescent Muchacho and Father John Misty FunFear; these two albums were recommended to me by a dear, beloved friend who had a transplant himself. These two albums, particularly Muchacho, saw me through some bleak hours indeed. 
 

At the museum, I spent a long time looking at the ways that other cultures celebrate death. Commemorate and grieve. I was convinced my son would die and was bracing myself for that empty space his lack would create. it was agony to consider. Returning to the hospital later on, I was settling down to read and drink tea with him, when a knock came to the door. His consultant called me into the corridor and uttered, ‘we have an offer.’

Knowing that there are many false alarms, I tried not to get too excited. The irony of the earlier hours was not lost. Within half an hour I was visibly quaking as the blood tests started and I stared at my child, knowing they could be the last hours i ever spent with him. Some of the paintings I have made are attempts to convey that feeling but they don’t truly come close.

 *Boff holds Willow's hand* Well I am very glad to hear he's on the mend now, although I know he still needs a lot of care and support, so I wanted to ask how do you juggle things with everything else you need to do? and do your other children help out?

An immense amount of regimen, discipline, adaptations, preparation, sacrifice, grit and humour. Yes, they all have roles and responsibilities. I so often burn out, i rise early and stay up late. Relish my free time which is scarce. However, as I said before, I consider my vitality a precious gift and therefore give my all.

I bet! and what about you, as as a woman about town and city girl, do you have an active social life, is London the bohemian city I was always told it was as a child?


Well Willow, it's been a pleasure talking to you, thank you very very much for sharing your personal experiences, perhaps to end on a lighter note, one final question:

Well.. I am not presently in London. I was there while my son was in hospital but I am at heart a real country lass. Wind in hair and scratches on legs. I have almost no social life as a single mum but apart from the odd live band and bottle of wine, i don’t miss it much. I am recovering and healing from past relationship and trying to build my future as an art therapist and independent person. I enjoy meeting like minds on Twitter,  I run a womens group on Facebook and have a close circle of friends locally. The kids are small still and I am young. Just working on being a whole human being for now. Just miss sex rather a lot!

Well my darling I've rather enjoyed my dip with you, but there is just time for one more question. If you had your own personal hot tub time machine, when would you go back to? and what would you do?

Between the ages of 17 and 19 I had the best time. I had a fantastic time doing A levels, lived with my bohemian father, had a lot of house parties and sex. I passed remarkably well and vanished off to Paris as an au pair to a delightful family, for three little girls. I loved living in France and had some fast track lessons in cuisine and Wine. I had beeb learning French since I was 6 years old so I was as at home there as back in the UK. I did that for 6 months and then I took a job at PGL the holiday company. A couple of months of leading groups of kids around obstacle courses and zip wires  during the day, and having a lot more sex with young, fit and handsome men, i was sent out to their site in the Ardeche in south of france. Imagine being paid to be on the best holiday of your life. I had even more sex and alcohol, canoed down a beautiful river day after day, sunbathed, smoked, fucked and drank. and ultimately, forgot to be careful and fell pregnant.

...and with that we're done, and our first interview of a new series is resting before you. There's still a good half a bottle of wine left and the other CD rom my 80s greatest hits album, so I shall bid your good evening and see you all again soon *waves pinky finger*