Verity Lambert may be my new hero.

It's bad enough a grown man being still obsessed with Doctor Who.  But a grown woman?  I'm not the only one.  I'm not really obsessed.  I can't quite work out why it's almost ok, whereas I would mercilessly mock my male friends for their Star Wars / Star Trek interest.  (I spent long enough with my male cousins and male best friends to develop a working knowledge which secured my ability to date as many geeks as I liked - and I did like.)

So I have spent a week watching Doctor Who warm up programmes, all in preparation for "The Day of the Doctor" tomorrow - 50 years of a television programme for goodness sake, although as I am always telling my students; that is a very high proportion of the history of the medium.

I think Dr. Who had an acceptable appeal to women even before the "eye candy" days of David Tennant (or for me- Christopher Eccleston.)  Having watched a particularly well-done drama- last night, brilliantly acted by Filch from the Harry Potter films - David Bradley "An Adventure in Space and Time", I was very drawn to Verity Lambert who became a very young and very female producer of the new Doctor Who programme.  Maybe it was her influence, or Waris Hussein or Peter Bryant that developed the character as a maverick with a strong political message but that slightly rebelled against authority and the status quo.

There may never be a female doctor, I don't know if I would welcome it or not.  The predominantly female companions have been presented as strong, wife-like in some cases and perhaps unfortunately, increasingly glamorous.  They may have been screaming banshees (Peri)  from time to time, and occasionally wore far too few clothes for any decent feminist to approve of (Leela) but there were some powerful companions. I got Sophie Aldred's autograph.  She inspired me.  Lately they have even been quite heroic themselves. Donna and Clara have pretty much saved the Doctor.  At least the old ones never snogged the Doctor though. And in some cases it would have been down right inappropriate.  The more recent Doctors have been closer to their companions' ages, it's been less disturbing but it creates a different dynamic.

Now the Doctor seems to need his companions to give him some humanity or to teach and educate him.  It is a partnership of almost equals.  The burden of being a Time-Lord is not an easy one and seems to come with few of the benefits of a super hero.  And just recently River Song has brought a powerful breath of fresh air; someone who knows more than the Doctor; turns up, calls everyone sweetie, is strong, sexy and (hooray) older.  The new Doctor is not threatening to his female companions or audience in the same way that he is not threatening to pale teenage boys.  He is not strong and heroic, he runs away.  And thinks. About science.  Captain Jack loves him.  And as I am just watching (right now!) my other heroine Caitlin Moran claim that Russell T. Davies was partly responsible for the legalisation of gay marriage. A girl can trust him when she's alone in the TARDIS.

I am partially refusing to feel guilty about being so excited about tomorrow.  Well done Doctor Who.  I think you may have made it ok for women to like sci-fi and even feminists may find some very positive role models in a programme suitable for young girls.

There is a light.

Last night, a woman died.  A lovely, lovely woman who has two young children at primary school with my children.

The playground after school was a sombre affair.  Standing, waiting, I watched as mother after mother approached a friend and gently touched her arm.  I watched as the mother smiled a hello then within a minute her hand would be snatched to her open mouth and her eyes filled with tears.  And all of us, all of us then wrapped our children up in our arms and buried our wet cheeks into their shoulders so that they would see our smiles by the time we put them down.

The closest friends wept openly or wore sunglasses but the rest of us who were passing acquaintances, or like me, had had a few lively nights out hid our emotions, not wishing to seem like hangers on.  It leaves all of us terrified by our mortality, wondering how on earth our husbands would get our children to school, or brush their hair.  Do any of them know what time swimming lessons are?  Or ballet?  Would they eat fruit again?

Dan and I hugged for an hour when we got home.  However bad our life seems now we have another day together, with our children tomorrow.  We are the luckiest people in the world.

Good night.  Sleep tight.