Up early or lie-in? Now our kids are grown up, I never fail to appreciate a lie-in. I drink copious amounts of tea, read the papers and chat to my wife, Jane. It’s great.
Sunday breakfast? Jane has taken to egg-white omelettes, so I use the surplus yolks to make very rich scrambled egg.
Sunday morning? We’ll be out on Wandsworth Common walking the dog. I say walk… We have a chihuahua, Dolly, who prefers the backpack, so it’s more of a carry.
Sunday get-together? Our two daughters live locally, our two sons a little further, but we’ll manage to get together once a month.
Handy in the kitchen? I prefer cooking outside in my clay oven barbecue. I cooked the Christmas turkey in it.
Sundays growing up? Very traditional: Sunday school until we didn’t want to go any more. Seconds at Sunday lunch was bread and gravy. The leftover meat was used during the week.
Sunday housework? I garden, which is outside housework. Every spring the petrol mower fails to start, so I’ve got a battery one, but now it’s not working.
Sunday tip run? You have to book now, which is slightly pathetic – my rubbish doesn’t get VIP access. Even so, a tip trip is therapeutic.
Sunday wind down? We try not to watch telly before 6pm, because I never did growing up. Last Sunday we played Scrabble. I like doing crosswords, too.
Monday dread? If I’ve got to make a big journey, I’ll go to bed with a heavy heart. Previously, I had a tour manager. This time I thought: I’ll listen to audiobooks and podcasts. It’s been lonely. As Barry Cryer said: ‘I’d do the gigs for free, but it’s the travel you pay me for.’
Hancock: Very Nearly an Armful broadcasts on Gold
