Thrilling or Thriller

 Yesterday I went to see a Cantonese film, Night King.  It was well over two hours and yet the hours sped by.  Perhaps it was because I was concentrating on the subtitles.  Anyway it was an enjoyable time.  Set in 2012 it  showed the old nightclub industry of Hong Kong where the girls attended the men to please them and we are looking specifically at a failing club  and a dubious takeover by a rival club.  What seems like the good guy is going to lose his club turns itself around.   

The nightlife of Hong Kong has seen its heyday but it is maybe on the turn again now.  I don't know, have never been, but the idea of the girls and the old bankers and lawyers etc. seemed a bit dated to me but perhaps the new night life today is this with a more modern and younger twist.  

Today I am off to see another film which I have been unable to see all week owing to odd show times by Odeon.  Today there is an isolated lunch time showing of The Secret Agent which I have been waiting and hoping for.   All previous showings have been evenings.  A Brazilian drama set in the 1970s.  Looks to be a winner.

Sometimes films are like buses, you wait for ages for one and 4 come at once.   That's the way it goes.  

101 Crime

 Yesterday I went to see Crime 101.  Life is back to normal.  The schools have gone back. 

I enjoyed it and what a contrast it was to Wuthering Heights the day before.   Action.  Barry Keoghan turned up in it.  It was like a flash back to yesterday with Jacob Elordi and in my mind only 24 hours apart and in my small world like a coming together a million miles apart.    For those who don't know, the connection between the two was Saltburn and the connection there was Emerald Fennell and the connection here was yesterday and two films in my life.  

Chris Hemsworth was the Crime 101 thief man and the detective was Mark Ruffalo.   A heist movie with a heart is how it has been described, yes, that works.   LA backdrop, car chases, Barry Keoghan on a motorbike,  Halle Berry getting what I got in finance work, "the champagne is on ice" and that's where it often stays for women. 

The manager at the Odeon said she thought the film was being overlooked.   It is the escape that Wuthering Heights won't give you. 

Wuthering Heights

 

I went to see Emerald Fennell's "Wuthering Heights".  I am a bit nonplussed about it although I was happy to set the book aside and let it be what it was in Fennell's story, a love story.  Those who know the book well will know that it is really anything but a love story and is full of extremely nasty goings on and pretty nasty characters and revenge.  However, the film stands alone, no problem. 

The great success of the film is Martin Clunes who had a rewritten father role as a drunk and a gambler and he nailed it, perfect. (In the book it is his son Hindley who is the drunk and the gambler but he isn't in the film at all).   If only there could have been as good a Nellie Dean as Martin Clunes was to father. .  Nellie Dean is central to the book being the lying, nasty piece of work, servant to Cathy and narrator of the story to Lockwood.  I can't explain it really but I was vey disappointed in her character in the film and was unable to totally set the book aside with her as she is so central to the story.   She was just totally disappointing.  

I liked Edgar played by Shazad Latif.  He was sensible and unshakeable and like Martin Clunes as father, he brought it all back to earth and credible.   

Will I see it again?  No. 

Travel

 Yesterday afternoon I went one step further with my trip to Azerbaijan and paid the trip balance.  I decided to pay by credit card for the Consumer Credit Act protection offered to credit card payments which are absent from debit card payments and it also gives me the ability to pay it off in instalments to suit me.  I am finding it very hard these days to save money and my savings do not build, slowly or otherwise, as they used to, and they are not building at all now.   

The credit card bank needed my approval for the payment and I got in a muddle doing it all on my phone app so had to ring the credit card company.  How nice, on a Sunday, I got straight through to a young man who told me to simply use two gadgets if I had them so that the approval needed did not cut off the company asking me for payment, if that makes sense.  So he reassured me that I was not going to pay twice which is really why I rang  and I went ahead and started again doing it his way, laptop and phone, and no problem, payment approval on phone and paid via laptop.  

The next step will be the visa application which I need as a tourist and should be easy enough on line I have been told.  At least I do not have to go to London as I did for Russia, with two trips, one to leave passport, give finger prints and then three days later return and collect.  Quite a costly exercise at the time with two rail trips and the cash of approximately £100 in a brown envelope for the Russians as card and cheque payments were not accepted.   

People ask me if I am going on holiday alone.  I am going with a group.   This does not mean that I necessarily meet any of them until I arrive at the destination because unless you spot someone with the tour company label on a piece of luggage at the out-going airport you are not going to meet anybody. A guide from the company always meets the group at the arrival airport.  Sometimes you end up sitting next to someone on the same tour like I did a few years ago when I met Odessa David,  as I called him, on the Ukraine flight and coincidentally sat next to him, and sometimes you see nobody and think you must be the only one going.  Additionally, some people make their own flight arrangements so go out on different flights and just meet up at the airport.  This is what I did myself in Albania four years ago when I went out four days before and met up with the guide and the rest of the group at the airport on the scheduled arrivals day.  I had been given the guide's phone number thank goodness because when I phoned him he said he had not been told someone was flying out on a different flight and would be meeting him at the airport.    Anyway, all was well and I announced I was already in Albania and asked where could I find him.  We met up at a coffee kiosk in Tirana Airport.  

 I am less likely to go on a city break on my own now as I am not so interested in galleries and museums as I used to be.  I know that may sound odd but I think I am totally  galleried-out!   

This is the small group I was with in Moldova.  I am standing third from left.  We look like a motley bunch!  We all got on well and had a great deal of fun and laughter.  In the evenings we split into two or three groups for meals out.  

And this is Natalya our guide for 10 days.  She was lovely and had a great sense of humour and perfect English. 

Next with Grandma

 When I got up this morning I found the boys and girl downstairs making me breakfast.  They decided to go for the porridge option so it was just the saucepan bubbling away on the hob but the breakfast table had been laid and I was to sit and be served.  "You shouldn't eat on your lap Grandma, its slovenly", said the six year old.   "Yes dear, point taken".   The six year old was colouring and the boys were deciding on how they could run a restaurant from my house.  The mind boggles.  Menu planning was already underway.  This Gordon Ramsey documentary is certainly having an impact on them.  I hope they don't go back to school saying fuck to everything but then maybe they do anyway, I find it difficult to keep up with young people and what is acceptable and what isn't.  I did notice that River, he's 8, said fuck when he nearly chopped his finger in two when chopping kindling yesterday but I let it go as I was in a slight panic myself thinking the very same thing at the time. Fortunately it was only a graze of the skin and no blood to speak of. 

The restaurant, I was told,  is to be in my dining room and will only have three tables.  I told them that pop-up restaurants were all the go when I was an art student and they would literally pop-up everywhere.  While the menu planning went ahead, with squid ink pie obviously included after yesterday, I suggested that Inga, that's the 6 year old, (I don't know whether she was conceived in the Outer Hebrides or something, never been told) design some menu cards with her crayons.  I handed her some of the old Christmas cards that had not yet made the recycling bin.  I noticed she started colouring robins rather than writing Menu so I gave her some menu words to play with from the Guardian easy Saturday recipes where you might just have some capers and eels livers and hay in the cupboard.  Actually I saw that we eat very little offal in this country now unlike France and Italy where intestines from the cow and bollocks from the pigs are still popular and hay is gathered to stuff in the cooking then setting fire to the kitchen,well filling it with smoke.   It is little wonder that our health is so bad over here with our deficiencies.  I suggested to the boys that they put a liver and bacon option on the menu along with cabbage and swede for vegetables.  Both pulled faces at me.  Ugh granny!   River, he's 8 and conceived on a punt on the Cam I assume, said that they didn't eat cabbage or swede and had no idea what offal was and Inga piped up she knew because she had heard daddy say "fuck all".  I said that wasn't the same thing and to shoosh about that as it was not foody.   I suggested they Google offal quickly and then find something on You Tube.  In fact Mrs Beeton was going to be much better so thrust that at them.  Finn said he wanted to be like Gordon Ramsey, we don't seem to be able to get away from him, and I said you wouldn't want to be lumbered with a £20M loan on a restaurant that may run out of customers.  Finn said he would make his restaurant smaller and on the ground, not in the sky, 63 floors up.  I said, um, well that might work but really I would rather he became a pilot or a doctor or something.  Why don't we all draw aeroplanes and pretend we're flying in the garden?  Or play doctor and nurses.   These games no longer seem popular and I was ignored and everybody carried on with what they were doing. 

I left them to the menu planning and Finn was drawing the restaurant, Inga designing menus, River was busy with Mrs Beeton looking up offal and vegetables, and Blade (don't ask) was designing staircases.  I handed him my Piranesi book and told him he could keep it.  It is full of fantasy staircases going nowhere.   I used to love it when I first started drawing and I do still enjoy drawing ladders and stairs myself but I am downsizing so giving my art books away and I told them they could select any they wanted before they left.   They wanted to do it there and then so I let them go up the stairs to the book shelves.   "Can we take any of them?"    "Yes" I replied.  Take the bloody lot I thought, it will help everybody when I'm dead.   "Yes darlings!" "Love you!"

When Thelma came round yesterday and we had a morning sherry I didn't tell her why the children were still here, or rather I told her they were here because mum had decided to stay longer in London.  I know Thelma was only here to find a bit of gossip for the neighbours, I normally only see her once a year.  

I spoke to daughter yesterday and she said she would be back and it was all a bit silly really but she needed a break.  I left it at that and said "of course darling, nothing more will be said about it, just come back when you are ready", seething underneath and wondering where the hell I had gone wrong with her.  Words will be had. 

I told the children mum would be back for them and they wouldn't be skipping school and they said "we told you so" although Blade did ask if mummy and daddy were getting a divorce.  I said "no of course not".   Daddy had facetimed them before bed last night and mummy wasn't mentioned and I kept out of the conversations that were going on but I did notice in the background when I looked over Inga's head a blond, leather clad young lady flash by.  She could of course have been nothing to do with it and merely Daddy was facetiming from someone else's room.  Well, you have to give him the benefit of the doubt and these Russian girls do like to be helpful and Siberia can be cold and lonely. 

The day continued with me supervising nothing much at all as they four seemed to be able to look after themselves and Thomas and White Bib got on with sleeping and Inga and Blade remembered I said they had to pretend they were cats when they were tired and sleep like them.  In fact this seemed to go down a treat and I only had to call out "sleep time" and "cats" and they curled up next to Thomas.  As long as Thomas wasn't being made to be a pretend Mongoose he was happy.   Afternoon storytime consisted of tales from Siberia (no leather clad girls) and grandma's travels and then River and Finn going outside and pretending my garage was a den.  I couldn't believe my luck....

To be continued...

 

Andy update updated again

 Mandy wanted Andy to be the trade envoy and recommended him to Blair.  Charles said no, don't appoint him.  Blair ignored Charles. 

(I think McSweeney was too young to be advising Starmer. He had no idea what a liar and fraudster Mandelson was.  You need to be older and wiser to be advising the PM).

I think it is a shame that Andrew and Harry did not continue with their military careers.  They were both at their best when they had a proper job to do showing courage and leadership and joining in the camaraderie of belonging to a group. When all this had gone for them they were both lost and the clock could not be turned back.  Just as many who leave the military end up homeless and on the streets, never having known a proper adult home life, missing the helping hand of the military institution, so too have Andrew and Harry and both have become totally lost.  They were more or less in the way as far as the Royal Family went.   

Men like Jeffrey Epstein attract followers like moths around a candle. He lied about his investment qualifications and landed jobs with the big investment houses when he was young, lied about universities and certificates.  He hoodwinked Wexner and made millions in stealing from his businesss, Wexner did not press charges.  Why?  Epstein robbed Wexner of $46M so it is said.  

 I can see why Epstein attracted Andrew Mountbatten Windsor and Ghislaine Maxwell.  Both were lost souls.    Maxwell lost her father without warning.  He had been her life.   Epstein attracted her, swept her off her feet, gave her money, was flamboyant, made her smile again.  So much was she impressed that she would stand outside Florida high schools for him at end of the school day and promising $200 a time she recruited girls for him.  Some were only 14 and all of them thought $200 dollars was great.   I may have said this before but anyone who knows Ghislaine Maxwell as a Maxwell in the family business, and I did because they were high profile when I was broking, her and her brothers, there is no way anyone could have foreseen that this is what she would end up doing.   She was always on her father's arm, she was going to take over, she had been to Oxford, she was a businesswoman in the Maxwell empire.     Mind you Maxwell father was no saint and was crude and quite uncouth and after he died we found out he had robbed the Daily Mirror pension fund.  

When anybody wants to cover up for Maxwell and feel sorry for her, please don't.  Jail is the right place for her.   Andrew is being investigated for misconduct in public life along with Mandelson.   It is sickening that at the time of the financial crash in Britain Mandelson was so pathetic and so shallow that he wanted to make friends and look big by feeding highly sensitive information - way out of order for a man in public office.   Ditto for Andrew who had been entrusted by Blair to act in the best interest of Britain.   

Although it is widely said that the monarchy will survive this, it is now very damaged.  The nation may be split but I think it will be difficult to defend anything about it.     However much Charles expels and rids us of Andrew the damage has been done and the cleaning up job will never make Andrew fade completely.  There is still Harry who is a stain on the Royals with his very silly wedding bride, his pinching of the name Lilibet which was an insult to our late Queen Elizabeth and his wandering around like a lost soul still wanting money and position and respect.  I have no respect for him or Andrew.  William coming along with a lovely wife, Catherine, but William is a stupid, dangerous, ignorant boy too big for his boots and full of empty sanctimony.    I will not be bowing and scraping to him either..  

More with Grandma

 The grandchildren are up before me and I find the older two are getting the woodburner cleaned and the ashes taken out.  I quickly explain to them that the ashes may be hot and they are to be careful and once outside not to put the ashes in the plastic bin because it will melt holes in it.  I speak from experience. The children tell me that they know all about this (yawn) because daddy taught them.  They said mummy is always in bed and doesn't get up very early so daddy teaches them things. 

 Anyway, the woodburner is looking better than it has for months and now they are laying it ready for later.  They know how to do this.  The two middle ones have gone out to fill the woodbasket and bring in kindling.  I told them at their age I was chopping kindling and I would give them a lesson.  I took the chopper that I still have from those days and we set to very carefully selecting the wood from off-cuts I have  been given by the furniture maker and I give them the first lesson which is to find the direction of the grain of the wood.   There was some shouting and eureka moments when this was established and they could both do it.  I explained you are then going to split the wood down that grain.  They see that chopping kindling is actually splitting the wood not cutting.   Once the grain direction has been established we take the chopper and enter with a firm first chop and then lift the whole thing off the tree stump (used as the support table) and then strike up and down on the stump until the first strip is cut.  And then carry on until the piece of wood is split into kindling.   

I leave them doing this and go in and find the older boy is looking at the squid and octopus with the fridge door wide open.  I suggest he closes the door to keep the cold in.  The youngest is playing with the cats.  Thomas is finding it tiresome and his noises suggest to me he is not really enjoying it.  White Bib is looking on.   Both cats have one eye on the squid.  I suggest that I will cook it for tea.   

Later all four are indoors and I explain that mum is not coming back for a few days so they are lumbered with me.  There is a stunned silence which I am not sure whether it is good or bad so I continue quickly that we will continue as we have been and keep busy.  Then starts a lot of questions about what is mum doing and when will she back and I explain that she has been delayed by an advisory role (a euphemism  if ever I heard one and I struggle to keep a serious face on) she is playing in Dubai to a financial consultant but she is likely to meet lots of famous footballers and will no doubt bring back presents for them all. This cheers them and lots of whoops and squeals and I feel I have diverted them enough to get us through the weekend at least.   Now daughter all you need to do is get back here quick.  I decide to message her when the children are occupied. 

Next we plan the squid ink meal which the two older boys have said they will prepare and go off to find You Tube advice and my planning help is not needed except they may need more ingredients I am told.  I hope not as I don't want to go out.  I said we will have to make do with what granny has in the kitchen.  I pointed them in the direction of Mrs Beeton and last I saw they were going through the fish pages looking for squid which probably wasn't there.  You Tube is their preferred choice and they say they want to use their phone to make a Tik Tok film while they are cooking.  I am not sure if this is allowed by mum because the phone is only for contacting her but I am told by Finn that they do Tik Tok all the time.   I nonchalantly ask Finn if he has contacted his mother or heard from her and he replies that she has probably "gone off with a man again" and is "busy" and told me in a very grown up way that I was not to worry and the story about the Dubai finance stuff was probably all lies.  I raised my eyebrows and asked what he meant.  He said "oh mum is always disappearing while dad is away.  She thinks nobody knows".  He added "don't worry grandma, she'll be back".   

The two younger ones want to run around the house so I let them do this on the condition that they leave Thomas alone and when they are exhausted they must pretend to be cats and sleep like he does.  They decide this is ok and disappear upstairs and I hear them opening the wardrobe.  I can't be bothered to interfere and so leave them to it.  Anything for peace.  

All seems quiet and I have satisfactorily achieved a quiet morning for grandma.  

Next I text daughter to find out what exactly is going on.

I see Thelma is at the door.  It is time for another glass of sherry.   Daughter can wait.  

More with the grandchildren

 The next morning my daughter rang to say she wouldn't be coming back and she would be leaving me with the four children.  She was leaving her husband and disappearing for good.  I was a bit taken a back and suggested that this was all a bit sudden but she said she had met a new man in the French pub in Soho  and would be going to live in Dubai where he runs restaurants and casinos and has a wealth advisory business for footballers.  She would contact her husband via a solicitor but in the meantime I had to take the children.    I said I would contact the Russian embassy and ask to be put through to the Siberian British consulate and get him home.  She said there is no such thing so don't bother. 

I asked her to send me a list of their schools at least as I had no idea where they go and what is required of me.  The youngest at the Forest School would mean the she would be with me for three days per week.  I was not pleased and in fact I was livid. 

First things first, I told the children to go back to their hobbies whatever they were doing and I would go to the fishmongers to get some squid (this was their idea that next time they wanted squid with squid ink -  my fault, I told them a story of a squid ink meal in Venice).  The rest of the problems can be dealt with over time and no doubt their flightly mother will see sense and return for them. 

I jumped in the car and left the 10 year old in charge.   I also went to the bakers for fresh bread before the fishmongers.  I purchased squid and octopus and more lemons.  Priorities priorities I thought. 

I returned to find a police car outside, a neighbour had called the police when she found four children in my house when she came round with the Parish magazine as well as a trail of blood in the kitchen (I had dressed a pheasant before going out and it must have dripped) and children with Moroccan rugs and cutains wrapped around themselves playing my old school recorder and saying they were using a mongoose (Thomas the cat) to look for snakes and no sign of me.  (Thomas was meowing loudly and his tail was swishing so it was assumed a snake had been found (erroneously)).  I explained to Thomas and asked him to bear with it. Please.   His tail continued to swish from side to side. The police officer meanwhile looked on.   I explained to the officer that it was a game of hide and seek we had played the night before pretending we were in Marrakesh and it was all harmless fun.  Meanwhile he had his notebook out and wanted to know how long the children had been left for.  I showed him the squid and the octopus and explained we were having these for lunch and I had been gone for 20 minutes.  Under the circumstances he let me off when Finn, the 10 year old, explained that he was quite capable of being in charge and had my phone number and there was nothing to worry about and said "please don't lock grandma up".  The policeman gave me a warning and went off.  I took the Parish Magazine off Thelma from next door and invited her in for a sherry.    The children returned to Thomas, the mongoose, to look for more snakes.  

To be continued. 

An Everyday Story of Half-Term

For anybody reading for the first time, this is a bit of creative writing!   I do not have any children or grandchildren.

Yesterday my four grandchildren came over for the day.  I was to entertain while their mother went to London for a school reunion.

The age range is 4 to 10 and they are all very good children.  They bought with them their own books and colouring sets for the day and the 8 and 10 year olds had a science thingy and a chemistry set.  The science thing consisted of bricks, a set square and a drawing box, or geometry set, and an exercise book which by the end of the morning was well filled with pages of architectural drawings rather than science.  The two older children get on very well and didn't argue  and were engaged in individual private study.  I asked what they were doing and one was designing a staircase and one was drawing restaurants.  He said he had been watching Gordon Ramsey's new roof restaurant and wanted to do something for him.  I was asked for jars of water and it seemed like some Archimedes Principle tests were going on in the breakfast room but I left them to it as they were well able to entertain themselves.   All four of the children are at boarding schools and the youngest, at 4, has just gone off to a Forest School where she sleeps four nights a week and comes back home on a Thursday night, returning on Sunday afternoon.  I am all for outdoor living and learning. My brothers all went to schools like this.

The 4 and 6 year olds preferred painting at the table and had paint boxes, brushes and more jars of water from Grandma.  I didn't have to do much as they all occupied themselves.   There were no gadgets or tablets as such and no phones.  All are at schools where these are not allowed.  The noise level was not deafening and the concentration was palpable in the silence.  

Lunch consisted of cold sausage sandwiches, cut like postage stamps for the two smaller children, and proper sandwiches for the two older ones.  We sat round the table with a water jug and glasses for drinks.  I do not do fizzy drinks and nobody asked for one so hopefully at home they have the same.   The conversation was around the sausages and I was asked where I had bought them.  I explained about the local butcher and then we got on to the journey of the piglets from the farm to the butcher via the lorry to the slaughterhouse.  I explained that grandma grew up on a farm where pigs were raised and supplied to the local butcher in the nearby town.  They appeared to find this of interest so I showed them some of the old photos of the farm that I had been looking through the other day.  There were lots of questions.

After lunch the three older ones went outside to play in the garden and remained within the area and collected wood for me for the fire which was a task I gave them to do.  There was wood from a fallen tree that had been sawn up by a neighbour two years ago and that needed to be brought down to the house.  They obliged without complaint.   The youngest one stayed indoors with me and had a rest.  

As my daughter was in London overnight all four slept here.  That meant I had to do tea as well so I fried up some white bait and buttered a pile of bread and put it in the centre of the table for them to help themselves.  There was also some scampi.   The white bait was popular and we all examined the fishes and helped with the frying.  We had fun with lemons and squeezing them over the white bait.  It is surprising how such simple things keep children amused.   That went down well and I had them all in bed and washed by 7.30 pm.  

They were in two rooms and covered in duvets with make-do covers made up of Moroccan throw-overs like the one making the door curtain that I mentioned at the weekend.  I told stories of Morocco and the Sahara desert and food in the open air in the Jemaa el Fna square in Marrakech and sheeps eyes and heads with lots of ughs and giggles coming from the children.  I told them of the snake charmers and the drummers that never stop and the donkeys and mules and the green tea and the carpet sellers.  They soon fell asleep happy and exhausted and I went downstairs and watched the Figure Skating. 

Next morning they all got up early and breakfast was an orderly regiment of porridge from the big pot I had made on the stove.  

Mum comes to fetch them at 11 am.  In the meantime they are playing around in the garden as the sun is shining and I am reading yesterday's papers. 

Their father is currently working in Siberia advising on oil drilling operations in the eastern oilfields.

Let's Get Poor Together Under Labour

 Yesterday was lunch with my friends.  Although it was a dry day it was one of the coldest of this winter here because of a sharp easterly wind.  We were all frozen by the time we reached our friend's apartment as we had to walk by the river with the east wind full in our faces.   It was a good lunch of salmon and new potatoes, our friend had done us well and I would say gone way over the top in fact. Knowing the cost of salmon steaks it was far more than she needed to have done for us.   I don't wish to sound ungrateful but it was more than I was expecting and I didn't need that much food, plus two bottles of Prosecco shared between 6.  I felt exhausted from it all by the time I got home.  Chatting, cold weather and food and drink in the middle of the day made me extremely tired.  I went to bed at 8.30 and slept through until 6.  I was too tired to even read.  

My oil delivery has just arrived and I am very relieved.  I had started using the oil that was left again on the basis that it just HAD to arrive any day and so be it.  I tipped him generously.  He said they were way behind with deliveries and I just said how grateful I was to see him and I understood.  I did not want to get into aggressive arguments or be unpleasant because of delays but I have never waited more than 3 days before.   However, my oil has arrived and I am away again.  Life without the heating seemed to put quite a few things on hold, at least mentally.  I also feel unable to pay anything out until I have paid for the oil.  Mad really, all psychological.  I can now do some washing which has been piling up for the past fortnight.  I would not put the washing on without the back-up of radiators if the outside drying didn't do its job properly and in the rain that we have had I would never have got anything anywhere near dry anyway.  My electricity bill for January/February was £230.    Let's get poor together under Labour.   

Even Labour's own back-benchers are saying what a liar Starmer is.   Great McDonnell tweets, who would have thought I would ever agree with McDonnell.  Mind you, McDonnell has ulterior motives in doing this, he wants to get Starmer out so that the far left can move in.   I had better be careful in agreeing with McDonnell.  He, the bus driver's son from Great Yarmouth.  He, who has Rupert Lowe in his home town.  I wonder what he thinks about that.  Spitting nails I would think. 

I am going to take it easy today,  get a bit of shopping in and relax.   The east wind is still biting - I stood with the tanker driver for a few minutes in hat and coat, frozen. 

Later

As I had the oil delivery this morning and I stayed in for the afternoon I have treated myself to having the central heating on for the entire afternoon.   I popped out for some essential supplies and ended up forgetting most of them but did get into the butchers for some pork sausages, the bakers for rolls and the newsagent for papers and the supermarket for cat food, most of which they are turning their noses up to which is annoying.   I am still recovering from yesterday, no idea why I was so worn out after my meet up with friends but there you are, old age is an unpredictable thing.   One day you're fine and full of energy, the next you feel old and had it.   I hope I am back to normal tomorrow.  Tonight I have the ladies figure skating finals to look forward to.  Next week the schools will be back and I can go to the cinema again.  My routine will be back.  I hate half term weeks. 

Old and New Habits

 Yesterday I went for my Thai massage and was very pleased to find my little Thai lady back to her old self having sorted out her difficulties with family that she has just been through, a kind of hell and back.  Anyway, that all seems to be over and it was good to see her laughing again.  I have not seen her laughing and smiling for several months because of so many problems. 

I avoid the city during half term but arriving early I went for a coffee.  Children, some with parents, some with grandparents, everywhere.  Teenagers walking along in packs but where they went I don't know.  I wondered as they disappeared what they would be doing.  

When I came out from massage the street was blocked off at both ends by blue light flashing police cars.  I was allowed through because I was leaving but was not told what it was, just "there has been an incident".  Police were everywhere as I made my way back to the station. Why do school holidays cause so much rise in crime and incidents when packs of teens are out on the streets?  Are teens in schools the same as when they go out on the streets?   I think the age of good manners and rare incidents has gone.   A knifing was extremely rare once upon a time.  A fist fight would settle an argument quickly without a knife outside a dance hall or something but daytime incidents were not seen when I was growing up.  The most I was frightened of were the packs of dogs that still roamed the streets. 

Last night was another evening of splendid ice skating, this time the girls figure skating short programme.  It was amazing and as the commentator said, they showed up the boys.  The boys, as in Ilia Malinin, were there watching and cheering the girls on along with some stars of the screen and pop who I don't know but they were identified in the audience.   The young Russian skating as an independent led the way for most of the evening until the final two groups but she will be there fighting in the final skate on Thursday night.  Russians appear in many different colour flags because they have gone to other countries for nationality but this young girl doing the Michael Jackson skate of her life skated as a Russian but an independent to satisfy the Olympic committee.  One Russian skated as an Israeli.  Others were all colours of Europe.   The Russians are big in skating.  But also the Japanese and three brilliant Japanese figure skaters hold first, second and fourth so far with American in third splitting them.  It will be a great final night on Thursday.  I can't wait. 

Today I am out for lunch with friends in the riverside apartment where the boats once tied up and the grain lorries came to unload (ours amongst them) but now all warehouses and millers gone, now apartments.  The drug dealers replace the prostitutes and the red light still glimmers.  The posh flats come but the old riverside habits remain.  I will see if I can find a photo of the street when the grain lorries were there and the mills to show my friend.  I believe I have one.  My friend is not local and does not know what the street once looked like.  She moved to the city from far away and bought her apartment off plan.  She did not actually know she had moved into the red light district. 

Miliband

 Does Ed Miliband know what he is doing?

Who is advising him?

Why is nobody stopping him? Why is he allowed to ruin Britain? You will be cold, bankrupt.

Monday

 The snow has all gone now and it is a brighter day.  I went to the Women's Institute cookery sub-group this morning to see a cookery demonstration on preparation of mushrooms.   I was invited by a friend who said it was an enjoyable, relaxed group of people and no special cookery skills were required and most of the meetings consist of food preparation demonstrations and tastings.  It was fun and a different way to spend a Monday morning. I don't eat mushrooms but was happy to see the preparations of a mushroom loaf, a stuffed garlic mushroom and mushroom pasta.  I didn't partake in the tasting but I don't think anybody noticed as we all mooched around and chatted.    I have signed up to the group for the year.  Next meeting is chocolate.  Yummy.   They are also having an outing to a farm kitchen/hostelry but sadly I will miss that because I am on holiday. 

The rest of the day has been sorting out paperwork as the end of the year has now passed and the paper bills that I have kept for 12 months can be destroyed and another year begins and a nice empty space for them.   I record all bills in a cashbook, simple cash columns, so there is always a record of payments out which can be useful as a diary of when things were done to the house as well as utility payments. I find simple record keeping is very effective. 

I booked an overnight stay at Heathrow for when I return from Azerbaijan as the return flight arrives quite late in the evening and I would be unable to get back to Norfolk that night.  I have a hostel that I like to use in Central London which I would normally stay in but it is currently being refurbished and they were unable to give me a date when they will be taking bookings again so I decided to get on with an alternative and book at Heathrow, hopefully straight off the plane and a short walk to the hotel. 

Tonight it is the final of the pairs skating so the rest of the day is taken care of.  

Love and Roses

 

I suggest to the fans of Wuthering Heights, the book,  that they watch Saltburn first before they see the latest film in order to get some flavour of Emerald Fennell, the director, and her kind of movies.   I have imaginations of some great expert (I have one in mind) on Wuthering Heights hating Fennell's version of it.  I haven't been yet because car service prevented me from attending on the opening day but I will go sometime next week.  (BTW,  the quotation marks in the film title are not accidental and should give you a clue).

Wuthering Heights was my set book in Ludic Literature that I studied last year on my Creative Writing course.  I parodied it, parodied parodies, pastiched  and rewrote entire chunks   I had great fun.  I sometimes got totally confused about whose voice I was being.  I parodied it in the voice of Joice who was already parodying in the voices of others in Ulysses  the parodies section I was also required to parody and transfer to Bronte.  However confused I was at any given time I enjoyed every minute of it.  I can't wait to see Fennell's take.   Of course Wuthering Heights is a story of revenge not love.   It is a very cruel story with not particularly nice people, a mis-representation and love and all things sweet it most certainly isn't.  Quite where Bronte got it all from is mind boggling, daughter of the clergyman in Yorkshire. 

There was a big upset in the Men's Figure Skating last night when the wonder boy Ilia Malinin flopped out and fell on the ice a few times and ended up 8th.  The gold was won by Mikhail Shailorov from Kazakhstan, a well deserved winner.  Japan took silver and bronze and between them they also accumulated a few falls but had a better night than Malinin.   It was a great competitive night of skating and even those who are outside the top ten are fabulous skaters. I went to bed as soon as it finished as I did not want to hear all the inquests on what went wrong.  I saw it, I witnessed it and I didn't need to hear endless talking about it.  

I'm off out in a minute to meet my friend for coffee in Waitrose.  I go anyway regardless of whether I've got any shopping to do.  Is it nice to have a friend to meet for a chat. 

Friday

 It's been quite a busy week for me and I am glad to be sitting down and home relaxing.  Today was the big car service which meant an early start.  I took it in for 8 am at a garage that was new to me because my former Citroen garage disappeared overnight and left me,  and many other Citroen customers,  high and dry.  I found a local dealer of another variety happy to service a Citroen and close to a railway station which meant I could leave the car and disappear off on the train as I had nobody to pick me up once the car was left at the garage.  I went on a 30 minute train journey and jumped off at a town with plenty of cafés,  took to two of them, newspapers and writing materials to hand.  Once it got to 1pm I decided to make my way back to the garage on the assumption that no news was good news and the car was probably ok and if I had to wait, so be it.  But it was ready, all done, lovely people and all prepared for the MOT soon.  

Now home is a nice place to be.  I have lit the fire and teatime approaches.  All I need now is my oil delivery but then I am a hardy soul and getting used to a cold house other than around the woodburner.  

Tonight it is four hours of the Men's Figure Skating final.  Lovely.  I can't wait for it to start. 6pm.

Ice Dance Gold

 

I had a good day yesterday with poets and poetry.  

Last night I had the pleasure of seeing the French pair win the Ice Dance gold medal and a splendid and amazing skate it was.  Words to describe it are difficult to do it justice.   It was France, USA and Canada, one two and three, gold, silver and bronze.    And all of them sublime.   GB came 7th.  Their program lacked the subliminal magic of the winning three.  The medley of Loch Lomond was not something they could manage or cope with and even without a slight stumble they were nowhere near a medal.  It would have taken a Russian pair of Gordeevas and Grinkovs to pull it off.  Within seconds it was a failure, no speed, no finesse,  and skill of choreography lacking in an over-egged programme that left this poor couple with a near impossible mountain to climb to pull it off.   I thought the British number 2 pair skated better to a better programme.   Names:  Loch Lomond skaters Lila Fear and Lewis Gibson in tartan.    No. 2 pair Phebe Bekker and James Hernandez skating to Romeo and Juliet very ably.  Watch out Fear and Lewis, Bekker and Hernandez are very close. 

Today more creativity for me in a singing and writing class this afternoon.  Also expecting firewood delivery and oil heating switched off for a few days as delivery has turned out to be 10 days, never known this before, and hoping for mild weather for a bit longer. 

Skaters and poets

Yesterday my BT landline was out of order which I unusually discovered first thing in the morning as I wanted to use it.  I don't use the landline very often and know it will disappear soon but as I still like the landline for speaking calls I use it.  I picked it up and it was dead.  I plugged in another old phone and still dead.  I then reported it via the mobile and got a lot of automated things and then eventually a human who said that the rest of the reporting would be done via text messaging on my mobile.  So I just played along and a bot was engaged to fix the phone and if the bot couldn't  do it then Openreach would call.  I had no idea what a bot was.   But it was said that the problem was not in the house but if I was around the Openreach man might call in.    Whatever happened it is now fixed.  I went out to get cat food and on the way back just before the house I passed an Openreach van so whether he had been to my door I don't know. Exciting stuff eh?

What happened for the rest of the day was just nothing much, getting firewood in, doing jigsaw, reading and then in the evening was the men's figure skating.  I watched this all evening, the selection of the 12 for the final on Friday evening.   I watched on Eurosport on Discovery+ and whilst the girl's voice was irritating Chris Howarth I assume was the man commentating and was lovely.  The girl's unfortunate voice was scratchy and harsh.  If it wasn't Chris then whoever it was was good.  I have been watching ice skating for years and years and years and I missed my mum last night because it was something we both enjoyed and would watch together. I used to have an ambition to go to the Winter Olympics to watch ice skating. It never happened.    I also once worked with an ice skating judge in the 1970s.  

This was in the days when the judges came out on to the ice wearing thick black overcoats after each skater and held up the numbers for the scores given.   She was a weird lady called Margery and will be long dead now.  She never spoke to anybody and was in the university of Newcastle office doing an admin job but I don't know what it was although we were in the same office.  She never spoke to me but when she did speak she used to spit a lot and never looked at anybody.  She was often away doing skating judging and presumably had an agreement with the university to do so and people would just say in hushed tones, "she's skating" whch actually meant she was away judging.  She worked at Whitley Bay ice rink at weekends.   It was as if everybody was terrified of her, which I think I was.  It is hard to imagine these days.  Office life was quite different then and, of course, there was no social media.  I remember her name was once mentioned in a newspaper report as a British judge who was consistently harsh on skaters but because she was consistent it was ok, which of course it was.  Even when it was in the paper nobody said anything to her as far as I know.   The only person she seemed to speak to was one of the professors who she made tea for.  Perhaps he talked to her about skating. 

 Many of the finest skaters last night had Russian backgrounds or Eastern European.  I wonder why Russia and Eastern Europe produce such fine skaters.   The pale faced  American Ilia Malinin is the son of two Russian famous ice skaters.  He is favourite to win for the USA.   It is tight at the top though with Japan and France on his heels and is by no means decided yet.  

Today I am at the university for poetry reading with friends. 

No storm

 The Melania post has been the most read of all my posts since starting this new blog.  Strange that a film I went to see after already seeing four other films in the space of six days made such interesting reading for people. The others were of no interest to these visitors.   In the context of my film going I am normally of minor blog importance of course. Melania was my final escape of the week.  I suspect they were not regular readers because the multiple visits did not engender greetings to me and I expect they were disappointed with their return visits in that there was nothing to see.    

Yesterday the visit to the optician went well and the contact lens check resulted in an all clear to continue as I am. This check is a requirement and is free, the cost is included in the lens supply budget of course.   The visit to Primark also went well, no Christmas crowds so I was able to buy my holiday underwear. Well, in fact what I did was  I bought one or two  to try as all the underwear styles had changed since my last purchase a few years ago and I was undecided what I will find most comfortable. Primark used to be the best place for underwear with easy selection, lots of cotton and styles,  but things change and this has changed with far more in packs of three or six and no loose counters except lots of nylon ones with lace. Roughish lace around the skin is not comfortable so I avoid them. 

I also visited Marks and Spencers for some food shopping, a very limited buy of a few of my favourites which I miss because I rarely go into the city these days, and I was on the train so did not wish to haul home any heavy shopping and already had the contact lens solution in my backpack. 

Winter Olympics

 I enjoyed an afternoon and evening of the Winter Olympics yesterday, Sunday, and what a great selection of winter sports we have to choose from.  I thought back to years ago when the only offering was whatever event BBC were showing at any given time.  Yesterday I jumped around from curling to girls  snowboarding, to skiing to ice skating and Claire Balding in the studio. I also had another set of choices on Discovery+.  But for studio chats I think Claire Balding is the best so for once I mostly stick to the BBC.  

For some change in the early evening whilst having my tea I watched two episodes of another Harlan Corben dark mystery, this one in French language which I admit I switched to an English language.    I don't like choosing this option but I was eating my tea at the same time I didn't want to have to keep my eyes firmly on screen every second to follow the dialogue via subtitles.    It is Gone For Good (Disparu á Jamais).  It is set in Nice and as I have visited Nice for a holiday many years back I am enjoying spotting places I went to.  (For a one week break in good weather it is the perfect place to visit with good transport links along the Riviera and I recommend). 

I did 30 minutes of weeding after lunch as the sun was shining brightly and the soil was well wet to release the roots.  I am gradually getting the brambles out and can see the soil again.  

My brother and his wife who I see on a Sunday have opted not to have visitors for a while and they have closed the door on everyone, not just me.  I would say this is a mid-life crisis but they are well passed mid-life.  Since his illness perhaps too many have been to see them, I don't know but they have now sent out a short message that they wish to see nobody.  I think this is a bit of a dangerous path to go down because  there is a danger it will alienate people and they will not return.  However, not for me to reason why.  They will work through this together.  Who and what will be left at the end of it for them they will have to deal with. 

This morning I am off to the opticians for another eye check.  The sunshine has gone again and we are back to grey skies.  But it is warm enough to not have the heating on which is a bonus because I am nearly out of oil.

  

Melania

 Yesterday the need to escape carried on.  I am having some fairly minor family troubles at the moment mainly concerning my brother who was ill at new year, or rather had the health scare in early January.  I won't say any more about it here but suffice to say I am sure it will blow over.  However, for the time being I am not seeing him.

So yesterday I escaped to the cinema again but much more planned than Thursday so my packed lunch was packed properly and I did not have to rush to the train, I went in good time. 

My chosen film was Melania which I thought was something I could immerse myself into in a light way and hopefully get something from it.  I was not wrong. 

I have to say that I enjoyed it very much and for anyone who has an inquisitive mind, likes to add to knowledge of the world around us and how people live who we see in the papers from afar this will not disappoint. 

Melania is a very elegant, hard-working lady and being the First Lady is no easy ride.  The documentary centres on the 20 days leading up to the 2025 inauguration of the President and the preparations.  Thrown in are lots of snippets and great music.  Melania reveals that her favourite music to listen to is Michael Jackson so there is plenty of Jackson and it suits the fast moving pace of her daily life. 

Melania narrates the entire documentary. 

I got to see Mar-A-Lago club which for me was of interest because one often hears it referred to in "the President flew off to Mar-A-Lago" but I have never really understood what it is.  So we had shots of that on the ground and from the air and Melania describing how much she gets from it.  

We have many scenes with Melania and her courture dress design team measuring up for the inauguration outfit and evening wear.  Her main designer spoke highly of the ease of working with Melania because of her background in modelling and her understanding of design from her mother who was a pattern maker and cutter and Melania is a no nonsense person in this respect and much admired by her team.

We saw Melania on the day of Jimmy Carter's funeral also mourning the lst anniversary of her mother's passing and Melania going to the cathedral at the end of a long day to light a candle for her mother and for a mass being discussed for her and the priest ending with a blessing of Melania. 

We saw the work behind the scenes on the inauguration day of when one team of movers move in to remove the out-going President's furniture and another wait on the side to bring in the new President's furniture.  I enjoy logistical stuff like this.  We saw the teams of men in and out with the furniture and the timing of it relates to the signing in of the new President and the removals out and in cannot commence until that precise moment. 

We did not see much of President Trump because the film is about Melania and her work but when we did see the President it was in casual, not planned moments.  He takes on a more mellow persona in such ordinary everyday life and looks to be well loved by his staff.    I felt sorry for him as he was clearly very tired in many situations of the preparation and he looked his age without make-up and preparedness for camera work.  Like many of us getting on in years days of multiple events are long and shattering for us.  He clearly cares and loves Melania.  Melania is no-nonsense in day to day work and does not have much time for stopping to talk to her husband as she is efficient and focussed. 

So I was very pleasantly surprised and, as I have already said, I enjoyed the film very much. 

I came out of the cinema and found a message from my solicitor on my phone asking me to ring him which sent shivers down my spine because I had already experienced the family problems this week and my mind in a split second went into overdrive thinking all sorts of things which sent my heart pounding.  It turned out to be nothing more than the solicitor doing an end-of-year check that all things I had discussed last year were now finished.  I wanted to laugh at myself for my moment of fear and panic but in the end the damage was done and as I walked to the train my heart was still pounding and all my strength had been sapped.  The call had unintentionally spoiled my afternoon.  When I got home I laid down for an hour before I could do anything.   I later pulled myself together and got my tea and settled for the evening. I watched the story of a nasty man who fled American authorities by coming to Scotland and took on a fake identity.  The Scottish police authorities. prison service and judiciary did a splendid  job in getting him back to America to face trial.   It is Predator on Trial and is on Prime and well worth watching.  He was called Nicholas Rossi and a rapist and serial liar amongst many other things. 

Escape

 Yesterday for one reason or another at home I suddenly needed to escape so I downed tools, grabbed two rounds of bread, no butter, some sliced meat and a sandwich bag, thrust them in my backpack and jumped in the car and headed for the station.  No time for contact lenses, it was glasses for speed.  I just made it for a train avoiding an hours wait for the next one.  I needed the cinema for what only the cinema can give me, total escape, incognito,  on my own.  There was nothing I really wanted to see but out of the collection left I opted for Jason Statham's Shelter.  And lo and behold, it did the trick.   It took me away from everything, was gripping enough to have some suspense and for such a film of assassins and MI6 I could actually follow what was going on.  It also starred a young girl, called Bodhri I think,  who was very good who played alongside Statham, and Bill Nighy the dependable MI6 man.  All in all the day did the trick for me.

Back home after a 20 minute train delay which didn't really worry me, who cares if I am late, only the cats waiting for me.  Fire lit, tv on and exercises done.  Down and up from the floor still satisfactory.  Backward walking across the living room whilst watching tv, satisfactory.  House more and more decluttered each day as I select an item to go.  Yesterday ended up a satisfactory day.  And as I predicted, my Mandelson post was of no interest to anyone.  

Mandelson

 I was going to do a post on Peter Mandelson but really this morning I can't be bothered.  However this is a little snippet that I wish to pass on about him which says probably not very much except his heritage is that of Labour.  

I will leave you with a couple of facts that are of interest to me.  They are probably not of interest to anybody else.

Mandelson is the grandson of Herbert Morrison, Labour MP and member of the government war cabinet during the war and government minister post war years.  He was not thought suitable to be selected as leader of the Labour Party because of his volatile and argumentative nature at the time, especially argumentative with Nye Bevan,  and so Attlee was chosen as the preferred leader and later PM thought to be a more stable and suitable person to lead the Labour Party.   Morrison was a member of Attlee's cabinet. 

Morrison had an affair with married MP Ellen Wilkinson, cabinet minister and trade unionist, inspired by Russians and one time member of the Communist Party.  She died in somewhat mysterious circumstances after an overdose of barbiturates but death was given as accidental.  She was at the time Minister of Education. 

Ellen Wilkinson is the chosen picture on the wall behind Rachel Reeves in her office after she removed that of Nigel Lawson.  

That's all but I remember picking this up from Attlee's biography a few years back and the figure of Herbert Morrison interested me.  Now his grandson is of much interest to the British public.  And of course the Blair's Britain that I talk about is the Mandelson Britain because Blair looked up to Mandelson and thought the sun shone out of him and would do nothing without him.  New Labour was Mandelson.  I wonder what Blair's take is now on his great and trusted friend.  

So I have written a little about Mandelson after all. 

What I did yesterday

Today I have a long hair appointment which will take the afternoon.  It is colour day.   I look forward to seeing Hannah and catching up on news.   

Yesterday after sorting out some business on the phone to my satisfaction  I went to Diss and did a little bit of shopping in Morrisons as once again I needed soya milk.  As I eat porridge every morning  I get through a lot of soya milk.    There was a method here in that I wanted to buy my newspapers and then go down to Bressingham to buy a jigsaw puzzle, my treat to myself having exhausted the charity shops around here, and have a cup of tea and sit and read the papers.   I had a quick walk through the garden centre shop straight to the end where the jigsaws are, selected two because if I come for one I might has well have two because I will be craving for a second when the first is finished, and then had my tea and scone sitting outside in the covered bit which has nice comfy seats and fresh air.  The temperature was only 3 degrees but two years of Covid with my brother and his wife got me used to sitting outside in all weathers - you may remember that SIL refused to have anybody in the house for two years so it was that or nothing.  I now like sitting outside.  The woman serving said she was a bit surprised about me opting for an outdoor table but she said no problem to bring the tray out when the time came.   A poor girl came out shivering with my tray 15 minutes later in a short sleeved blouse.  She didn't seem inclined to hang about, can't say I blame her.   The service was the usual, no organisation and slow but I was not in a hurry.  I mean, why does a scone and tea take 15 minutes to assemble?  The garden centre was not busy and nor was the café.

So I sat and read the newspapers, ate my scone and jam and drank my tea and it was all very pleasant. I brought the remainder of the jam home with me as I didn't use it all for the scone.   I got home at just after midday and immediately set into tidying the garage to make a space for the ride-on when it comes.  My garage is not one of those filled with rubbish but it did need some things taken off the floor and stacked neatly, and sweeping so that took an hour.  A nice space was made next to the logs for the machine and out of the way of my car.

Indoors I decided to tidy the office area where I do the jigsaws because the table had got a bit untidy since the valuer visited when I moved a few things in there out of the breakfast room.  I tidied and decided which of the two jigsaws I was going to do first and then spotted my blood pressure tester so stopped to take my blood pressure.   I was not sure where it would be after the garage tidying.  I was pleasantly surprised to find that I was a comfortable 127 over 75 and the exercise regime of four months is paying off.  My exercise programme is to help lower my blood pressure naturally without pills.   I used to struggle to get below 140 but those days are gone and the doctors were satisfied with the results when I was there in October and did a two week chart for them. It is even more improved now. 

I then sorted the edge bits of the puzzle selected, put them together and it was getting dark so I shut the curtains, lit the fire, put the electric blanket on low ready for bedtime and settled down for the evening.  I am watching The Killing Kind on Netflix, a 6 part drama about a barrister and a stalker.  I wasn't sure about watching but soon got into it and watched 4 episodes with two more to go tonight.  

Well that was yesterday, a happy busy day. 

Thankful

 I didn't post yesterday because my brother came over to see me in the morning and brought me a load of logs which he had cut up after a large bough of a tree came down in his garden in a recent gale.  We unloaded it and stacked for seasoning and then he came indoors for a chat.  We got to discussing my grass and he asked if I had found anybody to cut it when the times comes because our brother, my lawncutting one, is not driving for six months following his latest illness and will not be able to come with his mower.  Anyway, I said no and that I was wondering about getting a mower myself and doing it.  Now this brother mends and services mowers in his workshop and he has offered me one before but I have always declined.  Yesterday I said I would have one and he actually didn't have one.  Sods law.  However later in the afternoon he rang to say he had sourced one for me and did I want it and I said go ahead.  So I am having a ride-on of my own, little used, and ready.   That is when the Spring comes but not yet of course. 

We reminisced about the past when he was here as we do sometimes and both have vivid memories of being snowed in at the farm when we were children and it was always in February.  We also have a clear memory of the late 1950s when we were snowed in in Norwich when the snow came after we had all got to school  and all roads home were blocked.  That day we found the station and got home by train.  A first time on a train for both of us.   We wondered yesterday about how we got tickets and neither of us could remember that part.  We were collected from the station by father on the tractor.   I was 6.  (The other two walked home as they were on half day and their bus got as far as four miles from the farm and they walked the rest of the way. It was the birthday of one of them is all I remember but as they both have birthdays in February it was definitely February).  So overseas readers do not be misled into thinking that winter is over in Britain, snow comes here anytime up to the end of March.  The beast in the east which last snowed me in here just a few years ago was March.

I didn't go out on Sunday apart from late on at 5pm and still managed to buy a Sunday paper at the Co-op and a kebab for tea at the kebab shop next door.  So once again on a Sunday the kebab men were the only people I spoke to.

The news of Britain should be enough to keep British people going, it is bad enough , and good news of money handouts by the Tories was and is long forgotten and I should hope that that forgetfulness by the voting public is also regretted after the mess we were landed in in July 2024 .     Foreign policies should interest us of those policy makers  overseas but apart from that, no, no judgment from here will be joined, we have enough local mess, evil and madness here. 

Blair, Starmer and Chinese Britain

 Is it easier to be in opposition in government or in power?  Starmer was very vociferously against China in 2020 as was Lisa Tandy, shadow something or other at the time, and the braying Labour Party in opposition to making deals with China when the Tories wanted 5G Huawei. We sensibly dropped the idea   Tandy said at the time we should not be cosying up to China.   I don't know what happened to her but I wonder if she is squirming around or whether she is just the usual hypocrite of Labour and is honing her hypocrisy.  (Oh, I see she is still an MP so still a hypocrite).   What of the opposition to the Uyghur killings and slaughter of ethnic groups in China, cruelty and murder and torture?  What of the cadres?   What of UK manufacturing suffering at the hands of Chinese imported goods?  What of Sri Lanka, in debt to China owing billions of dollars because China stepped in to "help" and Sri Lanka now beholden to them?  What of Egypt, China building the new Cairo?  Is Starmer totally bonkers?  Yes.  What of the two British Chinese spies recently let go because Starmer didn't want to upset China?   Is Starmer bonkers?  Yes.   What of road building by China with AI and robots and no men?  Have we plans for AI and what happens when China says we don't need humans, pay us and our robots do it and then you are in debt to us like Sri Lanka?  Britain will never be able to dig itself out of this and then it will be Blair's Britain and Starmer's Britain and not ours and we will be working for China to pay off our debt to them.  How long?  10 years?    

Starmer calls it "securing economic growth". 

And the bus driver got sacked for punching a mugger who robbed his passenger.