It’s two weeks tomorrow since the UK General Election which saw Theresa May’s hopes of domination crumble into dust. Today was a shorter than short State Opening of Parliament with the Queen in her Ascot gear, eschewing the robes and crown.
She delivered a speech shorn of some of the nastiest proposals by the Tory party, though Brexit dominated and although some people are making hopeful noises that it may not, in the end, happen, I’m not holding my breath.
It was the defeat of Mrs May’s dreams that my cousin Russell and I celebrated on 9th June, a day we had planned to spend far from news and celebrating Tory voters, hoping walking and nature would be a balm to our European, Green voting souls. i have already written of our gleeful grins, of our alcohol consumption that lunchtime during a scrumptious meal where we toasted the many, not the few, but I have not got around to posting pictures.
This first might give you an idea of our route.
Give me a sign
On the other hand, it may not. Continue reading
Two thirds of the way through April, and I have turned the bathroom heated towel rail on again. I’m back in my winter pyjamas, and another W, wooly jumpers are helping to keep me warm. The rough winds that shake the darling buds of May are making themselves felt now too, but the sun has not yet got its strength up, so those winds feel pretty chilly.
Maybe it was warmer back in 1616 when William Shakespeare breathed his last. This summer promises to be even more of a Bill Fest than usual, with the Blessèd Bard getting enormous amounts of exposure. Will Power, as the RSC used to say its advertisements. I haven’t yet looked at the Globe’s programme, but if I don’t get my skates on soon, there’ll be no tickets left. Continue reading
I am aboard das Boot on a spring evening. I came here this afternoon, after a later start than planned, but I had been weeping over the tributes to Victoria Wood, then my nice neighbour Lawrence was helping connect my television to the internet.
I have a strong suspicion that Victoria Wood’s fame never crossed the Atlantic. In my adult life her writing and performances have been a continued pleasure. I believe sometime in the past I posted a link to her singing one of her many compositions, Let’s Do It. Check it on YouTube and you may understand what you have missed if her name is new to you.
Although I came up to das Boot a couple of weeks ago, I came by train, and met Brian who has been doing some work on my neglected vessel at the station before coming here in his car. Today was the first time I have driven East since Aunt’s funeral, and the first time I think I have ever stayed here without calling her. I want to tell her that the Great Crested Grebes are around and I am crossing my fingers they will again nest near das Boot; that there are new born lambs in the field next door, and pairs of ducks swimming about the marina; that I saw bluebells in the roadside woods, and stray tulips posing as wild flowers on the verge.
My visit is brief. I shall go home tomorrow. Last time I was here I realised the while. Brian has making the necessary improvements the boat’s interior has filled with dust. Like every man who has ever worked on das Boot, Brian does not share my philosophy regarding dust sheets. Whenever I leave, I cover the soft furnishings and the mattress, put bedding into zipped bags, with the aim of reducing the amount of spider poo and other unwelcome additions to them. Brian has removed the dust covers, folded them neatly, and not replaced them. What is it about dust covers that men don’t understand? Continue reading
I am having some problems resizing pix on the iPad. While they are definitely smaller, the focus is clearly impaired so maybe I shall need to do some editing when i get home.
I do like a sheep with attitude, and this one seemed keen to see what we were up to.
Westie Boy and I enjoyed a walk down the road and up the hill yesterday afternoon. A few years ago I would walk Cousin’s dogs in a big circle, but there’s a section along the main road and the traffic is fast. Only a short stretch has a pavement, and the last time I walked along it I felt lucky to survive the experience. Continue reading