Welcome to the WeekEnd

The petition to revoke article 50 reached 3,000,000 at lunchtime. It’s now at 3,706,979 and I think it’s slowing down. There was a very uptight member of Leave Means Leave on channel4 news tonight who claimed it was open to fraud and that he personally had signed it three times within five minutes. Whether that is true or not, the excitement generated by this petition is wonderful, and it obviously has some ardent Brexiteers such as the oleaginous Farrago rattled.
Not that the Prime Minister has any intention of considering any changes to her deal. Is it lack of imagination? arrogance? stupidity? obstinacy?
Anyway, when I finish work at lunchtime tomorrow I shall be marching tomorrow for a People’s Vote, though whether I shall succeed in meeting any of my friends is doubtful. The sheer number of people last time meant I gave up and walked with strangers.

More work on Sunday, than supper with Octavia before she heads off to NZ for a long holiday on the South Island. So a busy weekend. I’m hoping MasterB will allow me my full eight hours each night, and not go through his feline parkour routine which involves using me as a springboard before executes leaps, twists and turns Nureyev would have envied.
Brexit or no Brexit MasterB greets each new day with enviable enthusiasm. His joy when I head for the kitchen and get his breakfast is undimmed, then he is hopeful I shall play, and each morning I disappoint him by eating my own breakfast first. But he uses that time to chatter at the birds in the garden and comment on everything else he can see.
He wants tummy rubs, to come downstairs to check out the word on the street; it’s all so exciting. The image of an aloof cat couldn’t be further from the truth of my Ginger Ninja, and when I reach for my coat to leave for work, his disappointment is evident.
He is getting older, he’s in his ninth year and one sign of aging is apparent; he has started snoring. It hasn’t reached the volume achieved by Cat in his last years, which was quite phenomenal for an animal his size, but it’s begun. When he starts wanting to have a lie in I shall know he has hit middle age. But I don’t anticipate that anytime soon.

5 thoughts on “Welcome to the WeekEnd

  1. Good luck on the march today, Isobel! I’m gutted I can’t be there this time because of an appointment this morning. The Swansea coach left at something like 6.00am. I will keep an eye on your Twitter feed for news and see how long it takes the BBC to recognise that the streets of London are full of pro-EU and Revoke Article 50 demonstrators! Last time, they hardly mentioned it at all and there were so many people that my lot couldn’t get further than Trafalgar Square.
    Master B is a total sweetie, isn’t he? What a joy. 😍

    • Again I was working last time and finished close to Trafalgar Sq. I joined in on Pall Mall, the slow progress convincing me it could be hours before I found my friends. As a result I was quite near the front, well in the first thousand or so anyway, so I reached a comparatively empty Parliament Square where the dog owners were still gathered. The square filled up, the dogs and their owners left; I listened to some speeches, and then peeled away and came home. It was strikingly good-humoured though determined. The only aggression I witnessed was from one Leave supporter repeatedly yelling ‘what about the 17.4 million?’ at marchers. Some tried to engage with him, but he wasn’t having it. Have you noticed how nearly all Leavers claim Remainers think they are all stupid? They never mention the illegality of the Leave campaign, the lies; just bang on about project fear and the elite. The guy on Channel 4 talked about the result of the referendum being people voting against the establishment. I struggle to think of anyone more establishment than JRM.

  2. Ha!! Epitome of rich establishment, I think. I hope all goes well today. Will be watching speeches on TV. Buzzfeed says pressure on May to resign tomorrow! 😳 The knives are out.

    • Fair enough that they want rid of her, but BoJo is lining up to be a contender to lead the Torres, as is Dominic Raab, probably, Gove, maybe JRM. Not exactly squeaky clean. They should be shoved out with her.

  3. Unsurprisingly we didn’t meet on the march, although through a One In A Million chance I bumped into a colleague from work in Southampton, who had travelled up entirely separately from me (probably in one of the coaches) and who gave me a daffodil and a grape hyacinth from her garden so I could wear blue and gold! Our group (my brother, two of my cousins and their wives) met up near Green Park shortly after noon, and walked the whole way, reaching Trafalgar Square by about 5pm, whereupon I went on strike till I’d had a 20 minute sit down and a sandwich, and then we went down to Westminster. By this time you could actually move relatively freely and all of the speakers were long gone.
    It was extremely good humoured, wasn’t it! and there were wonderful posters and banners. One I particularly like said ‘Brexit is cultural dementia’ while another said: ‘Brexit; stepping on the rake of history’!
    The only protesters we encountered were one person with a banner with a long screed about the bible, which was so incoherent I couldn’t work out what it was trying to say – the guy holding it was dressed as a leprechaun! – and another banner to do with religion of some sort.
    Meanwhile, five and a half million and counting….

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