The great Bake Off debate rumbles on.
Apparently the Beeb have had nearly 600 complaints about the episode.
Diana has broken silence to complain that she was stitched up by the editing process.
She has also announced that she left the competition that week due to a fall in which she lost her sense of smell and taste. There is no announcement as to how next week’s episode will be handled in terms of eviction.
Twitter has set up a ‘Free the oppressed Iain’ campaign, despite the fact that the programme was filmed in the early summer months and unless Peter Capaldi is going to give Iain a lift in the TARDIS, there is nothing to be done, and everyone is getting ridiculously hot under the collar about something which is already history. It’s like getting retrospectively angry about the outcome of the Thirty Year’s War. ‘We wuz Robbed, sayeth the Hapsburgs’. Four thousand Daily Mail readers comment that it’s no surprise as the Hapsburgs have have always been bastards. And foreign bastards. Foreign, immigrant bastards. And look what’s happened to sausage sales since they started this. TSK.
The Wiki page for this season has been hacked and edited to give Diana super villain credit.
And everyone is getting their knickers in a right, royal twist about it.
Except me, who was more worried about getting her very nervous and distressed son to school yesterday.
Which, I think you will agree, is infinitely more important.
We marched him forth, like a condemned man, ready to meet his doom. We left him in the playground, white as a sheet, trembling and with his freckles standing out like door stops.
We worried about him all day.
We got to school to pick him up and he came running across the playground looking very pleased with himself. The teacher told me he hadn’t cried all day, and he had taken another new boy under his wing and helped him.
I was delighted. I went limp with relief and had to stop myself having a little cry.
After walking home in a torrential down pour, we all got changed and went out for afternoon tea and buns in what turned out to be glorious, late afternoon sun.
The air of fiesta was palpable. It continued into the night as I went to a surprise party for my lovely friend Kim, who was celebrating her birthday in some style.
I rolled home at half one this morning, having had a thoroughly splendid time allowing myself to be over served, over watered and over entertained to a tremendous degree. Excess in all things is clearly the motto of my whole life.
This morning Oscar has woken up light of heart and is actively looking forward to going to school, and I have just waved Tallulah off on her first day, watching as she sped off down the road with Tilly trailing behind with slightly less enthusiasm to get back into the swing of things. Although to be fair, she is spending the day doing team building and has had to take a pair of trainers and a bottle of water. It would dampen anyone’s ardour, frankly, unless they were in middle management and desperate for a day out from the office.