RIP Pauline Collins 💔
"Why do we get all this life if we don't ever use it? Why do we get all these… feelings…and dreams and hopes…if we don't ever use them." Pauline Collins as Shirley Valentine.
#RIPPaulineCollins#ShirleyValentine
So sad to hear Pauline Collins has died. One of the greatest performances of all time in one of the best play then films of all time, as Shirley Valentine.
How often can you say a performance really changed people’s lives? This one did. Heartbreaking, hilarious and genuinely inspiring.
Rest in peace. Sincere condolences to her family ❤️
🚨UPDATE
I’m now going to launch an AMBITIOUS CAMPAIGN, using my platform at @TalkTV, to convince @ITV to acknowledge one of the greatest comedy double acts of all time
Please RT if you BACK MY CAMPAIGN 🙏
#BackCannonAndBall
*One month before her 95th birthday, Patricia Routledge wrote something that still gently echoes:*
**“I’ll be turning 95 this coming Monday. In my younger years, I was often filled with worry — worry that I wasn’t quite good enough, that no one would cast me again, that I wouldn’t live up to my mother’s hopes. But these days begin in peace, and end in gratitude.”**
My life didn’t quite take shape until my forties. I had worked steadily — on provincial stages, in radio plays, in West End productions — but I often felt adrift, as though I was searching for a home within myself that I hadn’t quite found.
At 50, I accepted a television role that many would later associate me with — Hyacinth Bucket, of Keeping Up Appearances. I thought it would be a small part in a little series. I never imagined that it would take me into people’s living rooms and hearts around the world. And truthfully, that role taught me to accept my own quirks. It healed something in me.
At 60, I began learning Italian — not for work, but so I could sing opera in its native language. I also learned how to live alone without feeling lonely. I read poetry aloud each evening, not to perfect my diction, but to quiet my soul.
At 70, I returned to the Shakespearean stage — something I once believed I had aged out of. But this time, I had nothing to prove. I stood on those boards with stillness, and audiences felt that. I was no longer performing. I was simply being.
At 80, I took up watercolor painting. I painted flowers from my garden, old hats from my youth, and faces I remembered from the London Underground. Each painting was a quiet memory made visible.
Now, at 95, I write letters by hand. I’m learning to bake rye bread. I still breathe deeply every morning. I still adore laughter — though I no longer try to make anyone laugh. I love the quiet more than ever.
**I’m writing this to tell you something simple:**
**Growing older is not the closing act. It can be the most exquisite chapter — if you let yourself bloom again.**
Let these years ahead be your *treasure years*.
You don’t need to be famous. You don’t need to be flawless.
You only need to show up — fully — for the life that is still yours.
*With love and gentleness,*
— Patricia Routledge
Last night’s TikTok Live reminded me why Cannon & Ball mattered—not just to telly history, but to people’s hearts. Laughter, loyalty, and love poured in, and it felt like Bobby was with us. Thank you for keeping the spirit alive. ❤️
Yesterday, for no reason at all, I went to Grimsby. I like going to these places. Hull, Hartlepool, Birkenhead, Lowestoft etc. They have more to say for themselves and plenty of stories to tell. There's a certain beautiful solitude about them. There's plenty to look at too. Sure, they may be half derelict but they are interesting. For me, a good road trip is one that adds to my reading list.
Grimsby is especially interesting. It was once an industrial capital. Even now, massive ships dock in the harbour. You have to be dead inside not to be a little excited by ocean-going leviathans. If you don't live in these places, you just don't see that every day.
Very obviously, Grimsby is proud of its industrial heritage. You can see it on every street. You can see it was once an economic powerhouse. There's a lot there to be proud of, and the locals know it. I was particularly taken by the Grimsby Fishing Heritage Centre. Has a guided tour of one of the last remaining side-trawlers. One of the Ross fleet. To hear stories from a living crewman is the next best thing to hearing a Battle of Britain pilot talking. Living history that will soon be extinct.
All of these places, though, are a testament to failed regeneration. Every decade or so, there's an injection of cash, and small quarters of the town are modernised, but not really improved. Many of the nineties era buildings are already in need of demolition. Cheap construction seldom withstands sea air and the elements. Regeneration is fleeting. Without renewed purpose, it simply cannot have a lasting effect.
Meanwhile, some of the older industrial buildings could and should be restored, while others must be put to the wrecking ball. It's up to the locals to decide but a decision has to be made. I'm sure they can see what I saw. A place bursting with renewal potential. It has a lot going for it. There's always an air of expectation in a port town. Like something big could happen at any moment.
Despite the shabbiness, I have a real hunch Grimsby will rise again. It's one of the few places where houses are still affordable, and the town is connected to a superb motorway, and the wider area is beautiful. It's as good a place as any to start a family. Its sister town, Cleethorpes, is a slice of real England. On a clear day you can see all the way across the Humber, all the way to Spurn point. There's a refreshing sense of space.
Like, Hull, its rich heritage means every street corner has its secrets. You have to look up to see it but it's there. Only a boring person could find Grimsby boring. The local topography is fascinating, as is the industrial and political history. You just have to be open to it.
Never once in my life have I had reason to go to Grimsby, but I consider that a reason in itself, and I'm glad I went. Grimsby was once of great strategic and economic importance, and I can't help feeling it is owed something, if only a little more of our attention.
He trashed his family as Prince Philip was dying.. he trashed his family as The Queen was dying… and now he’s trashing his family as both his father and sister-in-law have been battling cancer. Is there a more contemptible public figure in the world than Prince Harry?
Ofsted: ‘Wellbeing matters to us.’
Also Ofsted: Ignores high staff absence, overwhelming increase in SEN, safeguarding & relentless challenging behaviour. Slaps on ‘Inadequate,’ wrecks morale & walks away.
Wellbeing?
They never cared. It's just labels, fear, & destruction.
I fell in love with Carl Dean when I was 18 years old. We have spent 60 precious and meaningful years together. Like all great love stories, they never end. They live on in memory and song. He will always be the star of my life story, and I dedicate this song to him.
‘If You Hadn’t Been There’ https://t.co/eD3txPZcZU