I should very much like to return to the old style layout and choices of writing posts. This block business seems fussy and clumsy. I don’t like it. I am not sure where I am. It took me ages last time to find out how to break up my text. I imagine I’ll get used to it, but it’s certainly not the coup de foudre WordPress has been suggesting.
Or maybe it’s because I’m tired. I have had a busy day and although it is almost ten o’clock I have only just eaten my dinner. I spent the earlier part of the evening with Michèle who wanted me to take some photographs of work she needs done to send to the handyman. That done, we sat, drank wine and talked books and politics. Oddly we didn’t mention Trump, but I heard earlier he was discharging himself from hospital, so I imagine there has been a speech about how he is the bestest, fittest, healthiest person on the planet while all those forced to be near him are endangered. It would have been better if he had remained out of sight. Every time he opens his mouth he shows what a repellent individual he is. He seems to have no virtues at all. Very depressing. He also seems to have a strange idea of what working means. Apparently for him it is sitting at the end of a large table signing his name on a sheet of blank paper. The fact that we are even contemplating his being reelected is the stuff of dystopian nightmares.
Not that we have anything to crow about on this side of the pond. Boris pants-on-fire Johnson seems to have lost the love of the Conservative party, but the new Conservative sweetheart, or at least Rupert Murdoch’s choice, is Michael Gove. If you had to sit next to Trump, Johnson or Gove at a dinner party I think most of us would be ill before the first course were served. We have given up expecting the ‘world beating’ track and trace systems promised to be anything other than an expensive failure. Last night, sitting in the garden with B&J, H and Hartley, H was saying that slugs were intelligent. Maybe a slug would prove a better Prime Minister than the present incumbent or the one we are likely to have after Christmas. Quite how the UK fell into this quagmire will be something historians are already picking apart, and unsurprisingly the Thatcher years feature quite strongly.
One bright spot on the horizon is that I may have found a company who can supply templates for the 2021 Ginger Ninja calendar and print them at a cost not much higher than I have paid in recent years. I hope the email confirming the details and prices with template attached will arrive tomorrow. In the meantime I need to do the washing up, get the live Ginger Ninja in from the garden and prepare for bed.
Stay safe. Keep well. Vote Trump out of office.