A LIFE IN THE DAY OF LINDA McCARTNEY

 We live in a two-bedroom house so as soon as James starts calling 'Mummy. Mummy', around seven every morning, he wakes everyone up. Being his mother I like to be the first to greet him, so up I get.

I take him downstairs and start getting breakfast ready. Before long the other kids -Heather (almost 17). Mary (10) and Stella (8) — are also down. If Paul is recording or we are tour­ing I try to make sure he's not disturbed. But if he isn't working he gets up at the same time and joins the kids at breakfast. He's an excellent father, very involved and protective towards them.

It seems mad to have moved from a large house in London to a small place on the South Coast, but it's so much cosier. Paul and I are in the kind of business where we can be totally detached from our kids and hardly see them grow up. If you have enough money to live in a big house, one kid could be up in the attic and another could be in the west wing and you'd hardly see them.

The kids travel everywhere with us. When touring abroad we usually rent a house and make it our base so we can return to the kids each night.

We're all vegetarian, so breakfast is eggs laid by our own hens, home-grown tomatoes fried vegetarian sausages, cereals and wholewheat bread.

During the bread strike Paul baked the most beautiful bread!

Quite often Paul comes with me when I drive the girls to school. Mary and Stella go to a local primary school and Heather attends a nearby art school. I drive a Mini because being American I'm used to wide roads, so with a small car I've no fear about scraping it.

I buy most of the kids' clothes at Mothercare. I look at their catalogue or go into the shop and pick out things that are made from natural fibres. I myself feel most comfortable in jeans and T-shirt. I don't really spend that much — even though Paul pays all the bills! Because we live locally I'm regarded as just another mother who takes her children to school and has a house to keep. I try to keep my life close to what it was before we married.

Because we have a big breakfast and a big dinner about six we don't have lunch. So about that time I'm doing jobs around the house. Paul never helps me. He likes tidiness but is not too tidy himself! If I'm working or going out I have a woman in to do the cleaning. But I always do the cooking because I enjoy it. I cook for six every day.

For dinner I make things like quiche Lorraine — without bacon — aubergines, spaghetti, salads and Paul's favourites which are pea soup or cream of tomato soup made from home-grown tomatoes and onions. I also make coffee milkshakes which I love. I'm a real baby that way!

If I'm lucky during the day I go for a ride on my stallion called Lucky Spot. He's got a lovely temperament. Horse riding is a marvellous form of exercise, both physically and spiritually.

One interest we share closely is football. We rarely get to see matches but we always watch it on television. Paul is a great Liverpool fan, so we support Liverpool.

Because we live in the country we don't socialize that much. We think that's also partly because we're too lazy. There's so n I'd like to do, especially in the photographic field, but I hate to leave the life I lead in the country unless I absolutely have to.

I get various offers to photographs, and sometimes I might find one particularly attractive. But when it comes down to it I just can't bring myself to leave the kids and go to take pictures. So I stay at home and take pictures of them instead.

Most of our evenings are spent in front of the television. I watch Dallas, Top of the Pops,  Old Grey Whistle Test and some quiz shows.

Before I turn in for the night I always go to the kid's bedroom and give them each a kiss. Trouble is, James often wakes up and doesn't want to go back to sleep.

ONLY A MADMAN WOULD CHOOSE TO LIVE IN A LARGE MODERN CITY

"Avoid the rush hour" must be the slogan of large cities the world over. If it is, it's a slogan no one takes the least notice of. Twice a day, with predictable regularity, the pot boils over. Wherever you look it's people, people, people. The trains which leave or arrive every few minutes are packed: an endless procession of human sardine tins. The streets are so crowded, there is hardly room to move on the pavements. The queues for buses reach staggering proportions. It takes ages for a bus to get to you because the traffic on the roads has virtually come to a standstill. Even when a bus does at last arrive, it's so full, it can't take any more passengers. This whole crazy system of commuting stretches man's resources to the utmost. The smallest unforeseen event can bring about conditions of utter chaos. A power-cut, for instance, an exceptionally heavy snowfall or a minor derailment must always make city-dwellers realize how precarious the balance is. The extraordinary thing is not that they actually choose them in preference to anything else.

Large modern cities are too big to control. They impose their own living conditions on the people who inhabit them. City-dwellers are obliged by their environment to adopt a wholly unnatural way of life. They lose touch with the land and rhythm of nature. It is possible to live such an airconditioned existence in a large city that you are barely conscious of the seasons. A few flowers in a public park (if you have the time to visit it) may remind you that it is spring or summer. A few leaves clinging to the pavement may remind you that it is autumn. Beyond that, what is going on in nature seems totally irrelevant. All the simple, good things of life like sunshine and fresh air are at a premium. Tall buildings blot out the sun. Traffic fumes pollute the atmosphere. Even the distinction between day and night is lost. The flew of traffic goes on unceasingly and the noise never stops.

The funny thing about it all is that you pay dearly for the "privilege" of living in a city. The demand for accommodation is so great that it is often impossible for ordinary people to buy a house of their own. Exorbitant rents must he paid for tiny flats which even country hens would disdain to live in. Accommodation apart, the cost of living is very high. Just about everything you buy is likely to be more expensive than it would be in the country.

In addition to all this, city-dwellers live under constant threat. The crime rate in most cities is very high. Houses are burgled with alarming frequency. Cities breed crime and violence and are full of places you would be afraid to visit at night. If you think about it, they're not really fit to live in at all. Can anyone really doubt that the country is what man was born for and whom he truly belongs?

Respond the invitations.

1) I'm going on a sightseeing tour. Would you like to keep me company?

2) Let's go to some historical museum on Sunday.

3) Why not to go to some suburbs, today, Peterhof or Pavlovsk?

4) I've got 2 tickets for the American exposition in the Art gallery. Would you care to come with rne?

5) How about going to the Zoo? It's so much fun!

6) Would you like to see a most impressive building of the new hotel? Everybody admires it greatly.

7) Have you seen the new bridge across the river? Why not go and see it?

8) What about going to see the new monument to...?